


Off the Menu

by cherie_morte



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M, Prostitution, Underage Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 10:20:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4056397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherie_morte/pseuds/cherie_morte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><span class="u">AU:</span> Jared is an injured kid wandering down the side of the road the first time Jensen meets him. He brings Jared back to Baby's, his father's diner, to help. As they grow up, they become close friends, but just when Jensen is beginning to realize his feelings for Jared may be more than friendly, Jared disappears.</p><p>Years later, Jared returns to his diner, but he's not alone. Every night, he comes in escorted by a different john, and Jensen quietly aches for the boy he fell in love with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Off the Menu

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the 2015 round of [spn_meanttobe](http://spn-meanttobe.livejournal.com/), where I claimed a prompt called, "The Hooker." So, yeah, not a lot of subtlety happening with that one. Thank you forever to [quickreaver](http://quickreaver.livejournal.com/) who accidentally mentioned on Twitter, where I could see it, that she would be up for working with an author on this fest. I calmly replied, "DIBBS!!!!!!" and she didn't even TRY to quietly backtrack. :D She did this BEAUTIFUL WONDERFUL ART that includes JENSEN'S TUMTUM and little hurt bb!Jared being all rain-soaked and, well. Just. [LOOK AT IT.](http://quickreaver.livejournal.com/119638.html) In the interest of full disclosure, this fic has NOT been betaed because I finished it while in the middle of moving and I still don't have internet at home, so apologies if it's a hot mess. I did my best to read it over.

It's like adopting a puppy at first. A sweet, harmless but harmed little thing with a face no one could turn away. There's no telling in those moments what you'll get when the damn thing grows up. You just know you've gotta do what you can.

He looks back on how this started some nights as he wipes down tables, watches the kid's thin ankle brush against someone else's, and tries to hold his bruised heart in its place. Jared needed him back when they first met. Now he doesn't let himself need anybody.

But there are times, like right now, when he lifts his head, bright eyes finding Jensen's across the restaurant, and his frown turns to big white teeth and dimples, just like it did when he was ten.

Jensen never could have done it differently.

_______________________________________________________________

He's 13 years old the first time he sees Jared. Jensen finds a skinny boy with too-long brown hair wandering along the side of the road, cradling an arm that looks like it might be broken, his expression scared and lost and his clothes dirty.

Jensen is on his way home from running errands in town: dropping off bills, setting up deliveries for the coming week, stuffing coupons under windshield wipers and fliers into mailboxes. He's riding on a high from it, always takes pride in how much his dad trusts him to do important business for the diner, so he almost coasts right by the figure walking along the street in the same direction he's heading.

It's ten seconds after he leaves the stranger in his dust that he does a double-take and realizes how young the person walking along is. It strikes him as odd that a child would be here alone, more than a mile out of town on a road heading nowhere, with the Texas sun pounding down on him.

He skids his bike to a stop, because it's enough to make him curious, and waits until the kid is standing only a few feet in front of him to say anything. Jensen looks the boy over as he gets closer and sees that his jeans are torn, his arm skinned and bloody, and his cheeks have tracks of wet tears slicing through the dirt caked onto them.

"Are you okay, kid?" he asks.

The boy looks up at him as if he hadn't even noticed a bike sliding into his path and he's only just realized Jensen is standing right in front of him. "I'm fine," he says, his voice a little sniffly. He waits a beat and then adds, "My arm hurts."

"What happened to it?" Jensen reaches out to try and take hold, but the boy steps back, nearly stumbling in his sudden need to get away. He frowns and lifts his hands up so the boy can see them both. "Hey, it's alright. I'm not gonna hurt you. Did someone do this to you?"

The kid sends a look over his shoulder and then meets Jensen's eyes. "N-no. No one."

Jensen isn't sure he's convinced, so he makes a reassuring face. "Was it a bully? They won't hear if you tell me."

All he gets is a stubborn shake of the head, so he tries to shove his doubts aside. "What happened?"

The boy's eyes dart around for a few seconds before they land on Jensen's bicycle, and he smiles. "Bike!" he says. "I just fell off my bike, that's all."

He looks for a bike and the kid must see his confusion, because he steps closer to Jensen. "It got ruined pretty bad. I left it. It was a little ways back. I was just going to walk home."

"Aren't you a little young to be riding out here alone?" Jensen asks.

The kid shrugs. "You're riding yours alone."

"I'm older than—" Jensen begins, but he sighs and decides that's not going to be helpful. So he changes gears. "Do you know how to get home? Because I think you're walking in the wrong direction."

That makes the boy frown and look down at his feet. "I'm a little lost," he admits. "Was just gonna wait until I found a place with a phone."

He smiles softly, starts to reach into his pocket for his cell, but he decides against it. Doesn't like the idea of stranding the kid out here after one phone call. 

"I have an idea," he says. "The nearest place is a diner, it's a couple of miles up the road. I'm heading there, 'cause my dad owns it. Why don't you ride with me and we can get you cleaned up and see if your arm is okay and you can call your parents from there?"

The boy hesitates for a few seconds. "I won't get you in trouble?"

"Of course not. How much trouble could a little squirt like you be?" Jensen grins, reaching out to ruffle the kid's hair. "My name's Jensen. What's yours?"

"Jared," the boy says. "I'm Jared."

"Okay, Jared." Jensen picks up his bike and climbs on. "You ever stood on a bike before? Just put your feet on those bars and make sure you hold on tight with your good arm. Be careful with the other, I'll try to go slow."

Jared does as he's told, and in another half hour, Jensen is chaining his bike up to the railing by the diner entrance. When he turns back to Jared, the kid is staring in awe at the big black car parked just by the door.

He smiles, always eager to show off. "Pretty cool, huh?"

Jensen watches as Jared tears his eyes away, looking up with excitement. "That's the coolest car I've ever seen!" he says. "Is it yours?"

"Well, not mine," Jensen admits, rubbing the back of his neck. "She's ours. Used to be my granddad's car, back when he opened the diner. He bought her brand new in 1967 to celebrate being open for ten years."

"Wow, that's really old," Jared says. "Do you get to drive it?"

He laughs. "I guess it is pretty old for a car. Nobody drives her. She stopped running a long time ago, and the parts are too expensive to replace."

"So this awesome car just _sits here_?" Jared asks indignantly.

"She doesn't just _sit here_ ," Jensen insists. He points up at the sign over his father's diner, thrilled to have such a captive audience, and he can see that Jared is eating up every word. "See, Grandpa used to call her his baby. When she broke down, just a few years after he passed away, my dad had her towed back out here so she could greet all our guests. People started coming out to see her so often, he changed the name from Al's Diner to—"

"Baby's Diner," Jared reads from the sign, and then he grins. "So she's famous now?"

"Aw, I wish. We'd be rich if she was." He puts his hand on the smooth black hood and catches himself smiling. "She's always been my favorite part of this place, though. I get to keep her clean and when I'm tired of dealing with people, sometimes I come out and sit inside and just breathe in the leather."

"Wow," Jared says, pressing his face up to the glass and peeking into the backseat. "You can go inside?"

"Sure." He laughs. "I like to pretend one day I'll save up enough money to get her running again."

"That would be awesome," Jared responds, giving Jensen such a wide smile that it's like he's forgotten all about his bum arm and busted bike. "Can I go inside too?"

Jensen snorts. "Let's get you cleaned up first, huh? Don't want you tracking all that dust and blood in. I'm the one who's gotta keep her in good condition."

"Oh," Jared says looking down at himself. "Right."

He lets Jensen put a hand on his shoulder and steer him inside. Jensen nods a greeting at Jeff behind the counter as he leans over, pulling the phone out. 

"Here, why don't you call your parents and let them know where you are. Address is on the menu right here. They must be real worried about you. I'll go get the first aid kit and we'll see how much we can bandage you up before they come to get you."

When he returns from the kitchen with the first aid kit, Jared is still standing right where Jensen left him, but he says he already called his parents and they're on their way, so Jensen leads him to the empty table by the window and spreads out what he thinks he'll need. 

He does as good a job wrapping Jared and cleaning the kid off as he can without much to go on. He's taken care of plenty of injuries in the past but most of them were burns from the grills or minor cuts.

"Your parents are gonna wanna stop at the hospital just in case," Jensen tells him. "But don't worry. I don't think it's broken or anything too bad. Does it feel okay when I move it?"

Jared smiles and nods, and Jensen can't help feeling a little like a hero from the way the kid's watching him.

"I have to get back to work or my dad is gonna be pissed," Jensen tells him. "Are you okay to hang out until your parents come?"

The boy's expression falls, even as he nods energetically. "Don't get in trouble because of me," he urges Jensen. "I don't want you to get in trouble."

Jensen smiles one last time, bringing Jared a kids' menu and some crayons, and then he heads into the kitchen. By the time he comes out again, Jared is gone. There's a menu still sitting in his place as well as some worn crayons, a picture of a big black car with two boys smiling in the back.

He folds it up and tucks it into the pocket of his apron, turning to Julie, the waitress on duty. "There was a kid here, did you see who he left with?"

She looks down at the table and shakes her head, shrugging one shoulder as she gets back to work. Jensen figures Jared's parents must have come. He'll miss the kid, but he lets the doodle on the menu count as both a 'thank you' and a 'goodbye.'

_______________________________________________________________

Just over a month later, Jared is back. It's a Saturday afternoon, the first time all day that Jensen has been able to take it easy between the breakfast and lunch rush. This is his favorite part of the day, the in-between lull before dinner when it's just Dad showing him the ropes, Jeff at the grill, and a handful of regulars.

Well, and a twig of a kid sitting at the table in the corner, nothing but a water and the strawberry jams and creamers he's stacking into a house and then knocking over, only to rebuild and do it all again.

Jensen rests the tub of dirty dishes he was collecting on one of the nearby tables and slides into the booth across from Jared. "Arm all better?"

Jared jumps when he hears Jensen's voice, but he pauses his game of Godzilla versus Jam Tokyo to look up and smile. "Hi!"

Jensen thinks of asking all the questions that have been bugging him since the first time they met, like why Jared left without saying goodbye or what he was doing out on the road in the first place, but before he gets a chance, Jared is off like a bolt of lightning, telling Jensen every stray thought that passes through his head. The way kids do. 

It's maybe a full hour before Jensen's dad finds him and tells him to get back to work, and Jensen leaves Jared sitting with his melted ice water and a few packets of jam to keep himself entertained.

_______________________________________________________________

The kid starts showing up all the time. Always sits in the same booth. Never orders anything. Jensen doesn't see his parents come to get him, but he's always gone just before the sun sets, when Jensen is getting ready to head back to the house.

He helps Jared with his homework. He tries not to see when Jared takes the unfinished food others leave behind. Does his best not to start to understand that at nine years old, Jared sits at his diner for hours because he has nowhere else to go.

Dad forbids him from giving Jared meals. _We're not running a charity, we can't afford to feed all of your friends for free._ So Jensen starts making portions too big, guaranteeing there will be leftovers when the customers go, and takes his time doing rounds before he cleans up empty tables.

He starts looking forward to his breaks, even though he never minded working before. It's not that he minds working now, it's that he likes Jared. Needy little kid though he may be, he looks at Jensen like Jensen hung the moon, and Jensen feels warm all the way to his toes when Jared forgets himself and smiles.

"What do we have today?" Jensen asks, plopping down across from Jared. "Math? Science?"

"Have to write an essay for English," Jared says. "A whole page."

Jensen does his best not to laugh at the dramatic dread in Jared's voice at the thought of writing _one whole page_ , but he can't completely stop himself from smiling. "What about?"

"What I wanna be when I grow up," Jared answers. He shifts in a funny way, pulling the notebook he'd been poking at a moment ago away so Jensen can't see it. "I don't need help today."

"Already know what you're gonna be, huh?" Jensen asks. "Let me guess, an astronaut?"

Jared shakes his head, so Jensen tries again. "Firefighter? I wanted to be a firefighter."

He watches Jared's face get all scrunched up and confused. "You're gonna work here, though."

"Yeah," Jensen responds with a shrug. "I work here. Someday I'm gonna own it, too, so that's pretty cool."

"My teacher, Mrs. Buckmaster, she says that you have to be 15 before you can start working. But you already work."

Jensen shrugs. "I don't make the food or anything serious like that. I just help clean and stuff. Just chores 'cause my dad owns the place. And I don't get paid, though I will as soon as I'm old enough, and sometimes Jeff teaches me how to use the grill. The more I can do to help out, the more money we save, so that's good."

"Would you rather be a firefighter?" Jared asks.

"Nah," Jensen says with a laugh. "I love this place. I can't wait until I'm old enough to do more. But, you know. When you're little—I mean, when I was your age—no one grows up wanting to work in a diner."

Jared's face gets all pink and splotchy and he sinks into the plush booth seat.

"What's wrong?" Jensen asks, reaching out to try and see what's in the notebook.

He pushes it toward Jensen, and Jensen looks down to see a paragraph in messy print and a picture of Jared wearing a teal uniform just like Jensen's, standing by a grill with a spatula in one hand and a giant hamburger in the other.

"I wanna work in a diner when I'm big like you," Jared says.

Jensen smiles, but he shakes his head. "Nah, come on, Jared. There's gotta be something cooler you wanna do. Like be President? Or—you like cars. Why don't you write about being a racecar driver?"

"I'm never gonna be a racecar driver," Jared says. "But maybe one day I can work here."

As much as he appreciates the sentiment, Jensen's a little sad that Jared can't imagine anything better. So he stands up, rapping his knuckles on the table. "Come on," he says.

Jared slides out of the booth and follows loyally at his heels. "Where we going?"

Jensen leads Jared outside and takes his keys out, looking through the diner window to make sure his dad is distracted before opening the door to the Impala. "Get in."

"What, really?" Jared asks, his expression brightening like someone just flipped on the lights. "I can go in?"

"Yeah," Jensen says.

Jared climbs into the driver's seat and Jensen laughs at him from the back as he watches Jared try to reach the pedals in vain. He lets Jared play for about half an hour, as long as he can get away with before someone starts looking for him, and then he locks the car up and grins down at Jared.

"How 'bout that?" Jensen asks. "Wanna be a racecar driver now?"

Jared looks back at the Impala, then up at Jensen, and does the last thing Jensen is expecting. He wraps his arms around Jensen's middle and gives him a long, tight hug. His face is pressed against Jensen's chest when he says, "I still wanna be like you."

Jensen brings Jared a nametag the next day with his name written in all caps, as neat as he could make it, bright red permanent marker, just like everyone who works at Baby's wears on their apron. Jared clips it to his t shirt, right over his heart, and doesn't take it off all day.

_______________________________________________________________

Jared is so focused on whatever math assignment he's working on that he doesn't notice Jensen standing next to his table until he plants a plate right on top of Jared's papers.

It's a big slice of chocolate cake—chocolate sprinkles coating the side and swirls of chocolate syrup spelling Jared's name out next to a dab of whipped cream. There's even a cherry on top.

"You don't sell cake on Tuesdays," Jared says as he lifts his head, sees Jensen holding his own much smaller slice as he takes a seat in the booth across from Jared. "Tuesdays are for cherry pie."

Jensen shakes his head. "I had Momma bake a cake today instead. No one eats pie on their birthday."

"It's for me?" Jared asks excitedly.

"Well, it's got your name on it, doesn't it?"

Jared frowns and pushes it away. "You know you'll get in trouble if your dad finds you giving it to me."

Ever since Dad caught Jensen slipping Jared an order of fries a few weeks ago, Jared's been terrified of him and of taking anything, even Jensen's leftovers, as if Dad had kicked both their asses instead of just giving them a stern look and a lecture.

Not that the lecture felt much better than an asskicking probably would have, so Jensen covered his tracks this time.

"I bought both of these slices with my allowance," he says, grinning as he shoves the cake back toward Jared. "C'mon, eat up. Ten is a big birthday."

Between sloppy bites of cake, fudge icing covering half his face, Jared swears this is the _best birthday ever_. So Jensen does the same thing the next year, too.

_______________________________________________________________

Tonight, everyone on earth seems to have decided that Baby's is the place to be. Jensen's not sure what caused the influx of customers—rainy weather making drivers stop at the first place they see, maybe—but he's in high spirits, as is most everyone around him. Stressed, but in good spirits. They don't see a lot of heavy traffic days like this one.

"Table 7 just left, it needs to be bussed," Danneel says, busting into the kitchen with a crazy look in her eyes. "And table 9 needs more water!"

Jensen laughs, slapping her with his dish rag as he prepares to follow her out. "How's the first week going?"

"'Come work at my diner,' you said. 'Easiest job in the world,' you said. 'Getting paid to work with your best friend,' you said. 'What could be more fun?'" She narrows her eyes and puts her hands on her hips. "I can't remember what it feels like to sit, Jensen."

He snorts. "I'll take your tables, go on break."

Danneel gives him a grateful look, but then he sees his dad show up behind her, and he doesn't seem as cheery about how high their tips are going to be tonight as everyone else does.

"Give us another fifteen minutes before your break, Danneel," Dad tells her. "I need to talk to my son."

"Sure thing, Mr. Ackles," Danneel says, her face only slightly blanching as she realizes he heard her bitching. "Have I mentioned how grateful I am to have this job and how much I love working here?"

"You must really want that car you're saving up for," Jensen says, and Danneel steps on his foot before grabbing the tray of waters he'd been filling and marching back to table 9.

"What's up, dad?" he asks. "We low on something? Does Jeff need an extra hand at the grill?"

"I need you to talk to your friend," he says.

Jensen's eyebrows draw together. "Danni? I thought she was doing pretty good, what with how busy we are and it's only her fourth day and—"

"Not Danneel," Dad replies. "She's doing fine. It's that delinquent you're so fond of, Jason or whatever."

"Jared? Jesus, Dad, don't call him that. He's just a kid."

"I know you've got a soft spot for him, but he's the kind of kid that grows up to be trouble. And right now, he's holding one of our best tables, and not ordering anything. As usual."

"He's got a test in Geography tomorrow to study for," Jensen says. "He doesn't have anywhere else to—"

"Look, I get it. And I've tried to be understanding, but we've got a line out the door and our customers are getting soaked waiting for a seat. We're running a business here, and it's not a daycare." Dad folds his arms over his chest. "I need you to tell him to leave."

"In the rain? At this hour?" Jensen frowns down at his shoes. "Can't we at least wait until his parents come to get him?"

"You're too old for this," Dad says. "You know damn well his parents aren't coming."

Jensen winces at that as if Dad just hit him. "So that means we should kick him out? You go tell him, then. Why make me do it?"

"You're a sweet kid, but sometimes running a business means putting your foot down." Dad sighs and places a hand on his shoulder. "Jensen, one day you're gonna be in charge of this place. I'm just trying to teach you responsible habits."

"Yeah, fine," Jensen snaps, pushing his dad's hand off of him, and he sees his dad's surprised expression. Jensen's never done anything but snap to attention at the mention of owning the diner, but if this is the kind of thing he'll have to get used to, Jensen wants no part of it.

"Son—"

"I said I'll do it." He grabs his dishcloth and tucks it into his apron as he stomps out into the busy restaurant and heads for the corner table. The table that he's thought of as _Jared's table_ for the last two years.

He sits down and Jared beams up at him. "Okay, I've got all the capitals up until Louisiana. You can quiz me. That's almost half."

Jensen tries hard to smile, but he feels it slip, and he sees Jared noticing it. He'd been planning to teach Jared the Capitals Song during his break. Jared would've loved that stupid song.

"That's real good," he says. "Listen, Jared—"

"Are you okay?" Jared asks urgently, leaning across the table. "I know you wanted me to be at Nebraska by now. I almost made it to halfway, but I keep forgetting Maine. I'll have them all by your next break though, I promise."

"Jared, I have to…I have to ask if you're gonna order something," Jensen says, less kindly than he would have liked in his rush to force the words out. Jared's little face falls, and Jensen feels a sharp twist of guilt in his gut. "I'm sorry. It's just a really busy night, see, and we're—"

Jared's looking around, as if he's only just now noticed how many other people there are. "And I'm taking up the only available table. I'm costing you money."

Jensen looks away as he gives one quick nod of his head, and suddenly, Jared is scrambling like he can't get his stuff put away fast enough. "I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't mean to. I won't do it again, Jensen. I promise, I won't ever do it again."

Jared rushes to his feet and Jensen tries to catch him on his way out. "Jared, wait. It's just tonight, okay?"

He shakes his head as he takes a step back from Jensen. "It's every night and you know it."

_______________________________________________________________

He doesn't see Jared again for months. A birthday passes, no one stopping by for their slice of chocolate cake, even though Jensen still begged his mom to make one. Just in case.

When he's in charge of seating at the diner, he keeps the corner table empty if he can, and when he can't, if anyone else dares to sit there, Jensen spends the better part of the night glaring at them just for existing.

It gets to the point that even his dad seems to feel guilty, asks where Jensen's friend Jared is and tells him it's okay if the kid comes around now and then. All Jensen can do is grit his teeth, because Dad made him ruin any chance of that happening.

And then, long after he's given up on seeing Jared again, he spots a shaggy head of brown hair as he's driving past the local middle school on his way home from classes. He slows to a stop, stares out trying to determine if he's actually seeing Jared or if he's just seeing another skinny kid with too much hair. When the person behind him honks, Jensen decides to pull into the parking lot for a better look.

Jared is leaning his head back against a wall, his eyes closed, when Jensen finds him. Jensen checks his watch and frowns, because middle school classes get out an hour later than high school, and Jared shouldn't be hiding out back by the parking lot.

Then Jared opens his eyes and smiles when he sees Jensen, instant reaction, and Jensen can't help that the lecture he'd been planning to give Jared dies on his now-upturned lips.

"What are you doing here?" Jared asks.

"Should ask you the same question," Jensen responds. "You're supposed to be in class."

Jared shrugs. "Just math."

"You like math," Jensen replies.

This time, Jared only half shrugs. The rest of him turns away. "I got bad at it."

"Is it because…" Jensen swallows the rest of the question, looking away. Already knows the answer. Jared needed him asking about his homework, helping him when it was hard. No one else'll do that for him.

"Seriously," Jared says, this time with a laugh in his tone. "What are you doing here, Jen?"

"Was driving by. I saw you. I thought I'd stop and—"

"Scold me?" Jared's words are sharp, but his tone is playful. He catches Jensen's eyes and gives him a warm smile. "Last thing I need, really. I get scolded plenty at home."

"How about a job?"

Jared's forehead wrinkles in confusion, and Jensen had forgotten that he really loved when it did that. "I'm only twelve. You know that."

"Wouldn't be anything official. I mean, we couldn't pay you. Just a few days after school, you could ride your bike around town putting out promotional stuff for us. I used to do that when I was your age. I can promise meals if you do that, and a place to go where you won't be scolded. And when you need help with math. Or with anything." He bites his bottom lip. "It was just that one night you couldn't stay, Jared. And I should've—I should've found space for you. I'm sorry I didn't. You're still welcome at Baby's."

"Your dad hates me. He'll never go for this."

"Nah," Jensen says, smiling. "He's been asking about you. He doesn't hate you, just hates losing money. You'd be helping out though. I promise he's nice once you get to know him."

Jared laughs. "Why do you care so much? All I do is get you in trouble."

"You're my friend," Jensen replies, simple as that, and Jared loses all the bravado, becomes the scared little kid he remembers.

He looks like he wants to say yes, but instead he kicks the ground. "I appreciate the offer and all, but I don't have a bike. And even if I did—" His cheeks get bright pink as he blushes. "—I wouldn't know how to ride it, anyway."

"But you said you'd fallen off your bike," Jensen points out.

Jared makes a confused face. "Huh?"

"The first time we met. When your arm was hurt. You said you fell off your bike."

"Right," Jared says slowly, nodding and letting out a tinny laugh. "And now you know why. Can't ride for shit."

Jensen can tell he's lying, but he doesn't call him out. He doesn't honestly want to know.

"I still have my old one, but I haven't touched it in ages. Much better to drive my truck, ya know?" Jensen grins. "I don't suppose it would take that long to teach you how to ride."

"You really mean it?" Jared asks.

Jensen grabs the brat by the shoulders and pulls him into a headlock, messing his hair up horribly before releasing him. "Only if you go to your classes, though. I'm gonna need to see progress reports and report cards."

"You're such a loser," Jared tells him, shoving at his chest.

"What do you say, then? Start Monday?"

Jared gives him a hug, then hesitates a few seconds. "Can I leave the bike at the diner? I don't want it to get…there's a lot of other kids at the home I'm at right now. Don't think they'd let me keep anything that nice."

"Of course," Jensen says, making his smile stay in place. "Now get to class!"

"Yeah, alright, bossman," Jared says, rolling his eyes as he turns back toward the school building. "Whatever you say."

_______________________________________________________________

There's a strike of lightning so close even stoic Jeff drops his spatula. Jensen starts counting the seconds right away (only nine before the clash of thunder) and excitedly announces, "Less than two miles away!"

Danneel is leaning on the counter next to him, staring out at the empty diner. "Super exciting," she says in a deadpan. "The next one will actually hit us."

"Let's hope she's not a psychic," Jeff replies. "I've got a game recording at home that I'd really like to watch before I die in a fire."

"How long do you think before the power goes and you have no choice but to let us all leave for the night?"

Jensen shrugs. "You're free to go whenever you want."

"Out in that," she says, tossing her head toward the window. "I don't think so."

Almost on cue, another bolt of lightning hits (twelve seconds) and someone steps inside from the rain and the dark that settled outside after the bright flash.

He sees Danneel start scowling at the prospect of a customer on a night like this, but it's only another beat before Jensen recognizes the thin frame and wild hair, and he feels himself smiling the way he always seems to do when Jared's around.

A few moments later, Jared is stepping into the light, shaking himself off as discreetly as possible. Jensen rounds the corner with a dry cloth in one hand and comes to meet him by the door.

"Hey," he says, handing Jared the towel. "Here, dry off a little. What's up, man? You don't work on weekends."

Jared lifts his head enough for Jensen to see him, and he's holding himself so that Jensen genuinely can't tell right away if that's a shadow or a big purple bruise over his eye. He reaches out, and Jared flinches as soon as his fingers make contact. So that answers that.

"Don't—" he says, but Jensen's already grabbing him by the arm, steering him toward the nearest table.

"Jay, what happened?" he asks. "God, are you okay? That's really bad, I—tell me what happened."

"Doesn't matter," Jared replies.

"What do you mean it doesn't matter?" Jensen asks. "Look at you." He reaches out and brushes Jared's hair aside, and in the better light, he can see Jared's swollen lip, the cut on the side of his forehead. "Jesus, I'll get Danneel to bring you an ice pack and we'll—"

Jared stops him urgently and Jensen looks down to see that the knuckles on his fist are all busted, too. As soon as he realizes Jensen's seen them, Jared pulls the end of his hoodie over his hand and he leans in whispering, "Please don't get them involved."

Jensen is thinking about it when Jared takes his hand, forgetting that he's hiding his bloody fingers, and he grips Jensen with such urgency that Jensen looks up to meet his eyes.

"I know—I know your parents don't like me and it's a lot to ask and…" He takes a deep breath. "Jensen, can I stay with you tonight? Please?"

In truth, his parents would be pissed if they knew he was even considering letting Jared into their house. But they're out of town this weekend, and they left Jensen in charge. Well, mostly in charge, anyway. He'll have to get Jeff to agree to close the diner early, but there's no way he's turning Jared out on a night like this. Not again.

"Of course," he says, smiling faintly. "Jared, of course. We were just about to close up."

Jensen lifts his head and shouts, "Jeff, let's call it a night. We're not getting any more customers in here."

He watches Jeff scratch his salt and pepper beard across the counter, and finally he looks at Danneel's pleading eyes and gives a shrug. "I'm fine with it. You sure your daddy won't mind?"

"Nah, I'll just explain we're saving more money by closing down." He smiles, even though he's not completely sure his dad'll go for it. He'll figure that out on Monday when he has to explain himself. For now, he's more concerned with Jared, who's shaking from the blast of the air conditioning on his soaked clothes.

"Try to stay dry, you kids," Danneel shouts as she makes for the door.

Jeff watches her leave with a laugh and smiles at Jensen. "Go on, you oughta get home, too. I'll take care of closing."

"By yourself?" Jensen asks.

"Not much to do," he says with a shrug.

Jensen hesitates only one second longer before he's on his feet and pulling Jared up. "Thanks, man, you're the best."

Jeff salutes him as the door jingles to announce their leaving.

All he wants right now is to get Jared somewhere quiet and alone, somewhere the kid might actually talk to him. So only a few steps out the door, Jensen pauses to open the Impala and pulls Jared into the backseat next to him.

Once they're sitting in the car and the rain is safely outside, Jared slumps into his seat. "You shouldn't have done that. If your dad finds out you shut down because of me he'll—"

"He'll be fine," Jensen says. "We weren't making any money anyway."

"I just don't want you to get hurt," Jared says quietly, and Jensen's heart leaps to his throat.

"Jared, my dad doesn't hurt me over stuff like that," he says. "I know he can seem strict, but Jesus, he doesn't—did your dad do this to you?"

Jared shakes his head and looks out the window, even though there's nothing to see except the same old parking lot they've sat in a million times before, even if the rain wasn't falling so heavy it's nearly impossible to make anything out.

"Hey, look at me," Jensen says, putting his hand on Jared's thigh. "I just want to help."

Jared jumps at Jensen's touch, but Jensen doesn't pull back. He waits until Jared has a chance to orient himself, to see that this is Jensen and he's not going to hurt him.

"Please talk to me," he says. "I can't help you if you won't talk to me."

"Just this one night," Jared promises. "I can't go back there. I'll be good. I'll be good for you if you don't make me go back there."

"Go where?" Jensen asks. "Where did this happen? Tell me who did this to you."

Outside, the lights from the diner all go off, the rotating sign on the roof reading 'Baby's' the last to flicker out. Jared looks up at the sign, always has had a fondness for it, and then his eyes find Jensen's.

"I always imagined this happening here, in this car," he says, smiling for the first time all night. Then he leans in and presses his lips to the corner of Jensen's mouth.

Jensen shoves him away, too shocked to process it. "Hey, stop," he says. "Jared, what are you doing?"

"I'll be good," Jared promises again. "I will. I'll be very good for you. You won't regret helping me, okay?"

"You're good," Jensen says, reaching out to stroke Jared's hair. "You're good, I'm happy to help you. But you're too young to do…that. With me. You're just a kid."

Jared frowns down at his hands. "'m not."

"You're thirteen," Jensen says with a laugh. He rubs his fingers over his mouth, a little embarrassed because that had been his first kiss.

"That's old enough for everyone else," says Jared.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jensen feels like he might be sick, so he turns his face away, hoping Jared can't see it. "I need you to tell me what happened."

"Please, I'm so tired. I'll tell you tomorrow. Just don't make me talk about it tonight," Jared replies. He sounds like he's half a syllable from crying, and Jensen can't take that.

"Alright," he agrees. "Come on, let's make a break for the truck so we can go home, huh? Baby isn't gonna drive us there, unfortunately."

"Or I can stay here," Jared says. "If you don't want me in your house. I can just stay in here. I like it in here. Feels safe."

Jensen smiles at that, but he shakes his head anyway. "Don't be crazy. It's freezing. We need to get you some dry clothes."

Fifteen minutes later, they're huddled on Jensen's porch, newly drenched from their run to and from the car, and Jared is shuddering against his back as he tries to find the right key for the door.

He finally gets it open with the light from his phone helping, and as soon as he's inside, he's thinking through everything he'll need.

"Okay, I'll pick out something that might fit you. And let me grab a towel. And then I'll try to bandage up some of those cuts," Jensen says, running through a checklist in his head. 

He smiles encouragingly as he leads Jared to his room and starts digging through drawers, picking out a big t shirt and some pajama pants. He throws in an old hoodie for good measure. 

Jared catches the clothes he tosses. "They're gonna be a little big on you, but hopefully they'll do for the night. Once you've changed, I can throw your wet clothes in the laundry so you have something clean and warm to wear tomorrow."

"You don't have to do all this," Jared says, looking down at the bundle in his hands. "I just need a floor to sleep on."

Jensen ruffles his friend's wet hair. "Now, I don't have a spare bed, but the couch isn't too bad. I'll go grab some sheets and a pillow for you while you change."

"Jensen—" Jared starts, but he can tell the kid is about to insist he doesn't have to again, so he ignores him, heading out into the small living room with enough sheets and blankets to turn the lumpy couch into an acceptable place to sleep.

He knocks on the door to his room again a few minutes later and then lets himself in. Jared is wearing the boxers Jensen gave him, and he's got the t shirt in one hand, but he's staring at the pictures on Jensen's nightstand instead of putting it on.

Jensen has to cover his mouth to keep himself from making any noise, because Jared's body is covered in scars and bruises, some still fresh and some fading into green.

"Jay," he says, stepping in, and as soon as he hears Jensen, Jared pulls the shirt on over his head.

To Jensen's surprise, he smiles and points to the picture, as if Jensen didn't just see a history of violence spelled out across his ribcage. "You look happy."

"Was my tenth birthday," Jensen says. "I'd never been to Disney Land before."

"Tenth birthdays are important," Jared says quietly. He looks up at Jensen warmly. "I'm ready to go to bed. Bet you're tired, too."

"Yeah," Jensen says. "You can sleep in here."

He's expecting that to get another one of those grins he loves so much out of Jared, but instead the smile slips and Jared nods. "Okay," he says. "I'll be good. I promise."

"I know you will, kiddo," Jensen says. "I'll be in the living room if you need me."

Jared gives him a confused face. "You're not gonna sleep in here?"

"I think we're a little old to share," Jensen says with a laugh. "Go on, you take the bed. Couch is fine for me."

"No," says Jared. "No, I'll go on the couch. I didn't realize you were—" He smiles. "Couch is great, Jensen. Thanks."

He pauses in the doorway to give Jensen a hug, and Jensen can't help wrapping his arms around Jared's shoulders.

Things are quiet for a long time after that, and eventually Jensen falls asleep. He wakes up a few hours later, 3:45 a.m. according to his alarm clock, and it's still raining hard outside. He listens for a few minutes as he waits to fall back asleep, trying to determine if the sound he's hearing is wind from the storm or crying.

He stares up at the ceiling as his half-asleep brain cycles through, at first wondering if it's one of his parents, then remembering they're out of town, and then it hits him that Jared is here.

So he rushes to the living room, where the sound is louder and clearer.

"Jared," he whispers. "Jared, is that you?"

No one answers him, so he gets closer. Close enough to see that, hunched up in a little ball, turned away from him so he's facing the back of the couch, Jared is still asleep. But he's most definitely crying, as well.

Jensen sits at the very edge of the couch next to his friend and lightly touches Jared's shoulder, "Hey, wake up," he says. "I think you're having a nightmare."

Jared's body goes rigid as soon as Jensen's hand makes contact. His eyes shoot open and before Jensen knows what's happening, Jared is sitting up, shoving Jensen away from him with surprising violence.

"Don't touch me!" he yells.

Jensen stares up at him, at this kid he's known for years and tries his best to take care of, and he can't help it if his face is showing how hurt he is. He's flat on his ass on the floor with Jared towering above him, his bandaged hand forming a fist.

He raises his arms to try to block the hit, but it's not a punch he's scared of. It's the response. It's that after everything he's done, Jared still thinks he's the kind of person who would come to him in the middle of the night and try to touch him.

And then Jared's expression changes, all the wildness going out of it, and he lowers his hand. "Jensen?" he asks. "God, Jensen, I'm so sorry. I thought—I thought you were someone else."

His whole world tilts on its axis, leaving Jensen feeling seasick. Because that, somehow, that's even worse than what he'd thought before.

It wasn't about him at all. Someone else, someone Jared should have been able to trust, had done that. Hurt this sweet little boy and made it so that even sleeping wasn't safe, and all that stupid, selfish Jensen could think about was his own hurt feelings.

He stands, watching as Jared bows his head in shame and stares at his feet. "I'll leave," he says.

Jensen takes Jared's face between his hands and looks his friend in the eye for a long time, making sure Jared is okay with the contact before he pulls the boy into a hug. "You don't have to leave," he whispers as Jared lets out a sob and wraps his arms around Jensen. "Don't leave. Stay here, I won't hurt you. Please stay."

Of course, by the next morning, Jared is gone, the clothes Jensen leant him left folded on the couch, except for the hoodie. He never tells Jensen what made him come to the diner for help, but it doesn't matter. Jensen knows enough.

_______________________________________________________________

Between the rush of orders, people asking questions, light and sound assaulting him from every direction, Jensen doesn't know when Jared came in.

He doesn't know Jared is there at all, but Jared is there, crowding around him, hiding him from the stares of a restaurant full of unsatisfied customers and demanding employees. Jensen is sitting on the floor next to a tray of overturned food, because he dropped it like the fuck up he is.

In his head, he's looking at every item, mentally adding up how much he's cost them with this slip. Them. He covers his face, too much air coming at him as he gasps, and he can feel tears about to sting at his eyes. There's no them anymore. There's no Dad to be disappointed in him. There's no Mom to shush him and tell him that _it's okay, accidents happen_.

There's only Jensen. Hardly 18 years old and everything's on him now. Everyone is depending on him to keep this place afloat, and he can't even walk between the kitchen and the tables without spilling $30 worth of product all over the floor. $35 once he factors in the paid time it'll take someone to clean it.

"Shh," a voice says to him. A big hand rests on his shoulder and begins to rub him soothingly. "Shh, hey. It's okay. Jensen, it's okay."

It's not. 

Six days ago, Jensen finished high school. 

Four days and five nights ago, his parents were coming to get him, pick his drunk ass up from a graduation party. They never got there. Someone else decided to drive home instead of waiting for a ride, and the next time Jensen saw them, it was to ID the bodies.

Three days ago, he called the local college, let them know he wouldn't be coming to take those business classes after all, because, very suddenly, he owns a business and he'll just have to learn to run it on his own. 

17 hours ago, Jensen put his parents in the ground.

Today, he opened, because one more day without bringing in profit, the most recent shipment of food all gone expired without nearly enough sales to cover it…

Jensen can't let the damn diner fail. His whole life, his father promised this to him. His whole life, he watched his parents scrounge and save to keep Baby's open, so that they could leave it to Jensen one day. It wasn't supposed to be today.

If he loses the diner, he's got nothing. He'll have gotten them killed and shut down their dream all in the same week.

"Jensen," he hears that voice again, and it's so close to him. "Come back to me."

He blinks his eyes a few times, chokes away the tears before they can start falling, and he sees Jared's face, worry and concern all over it. This is wrong, too. Jared isn't supposed to comfort Jensen. Jensen is supposed to look after him.

"Jensen, hey. You're okay. It's alright." Jared's hand slips down from his shoulder and presses against his heart instead, holding him up against the wall. "Take a deep breath and look at me."

After a few seconds more of panic, Jensen forces himself to do as instructed, thinks of nothing but the air coming in and slowly letting it out.

"Good." Jared smiles encouragingly. "That's real good, Jen. Why don't you do it again, huh? Just one more time."

He nods as he inhales, holds it, exhales. Tries not to think. Finally he feels like he has himself enough under control to ask, "Is everybody staring at me?"

Jared doesn't even look to check before he shakes his head. "Don't you worry what they're doing. Stay with me. Just with me."

Jensen reaches up, grips Jared's wrist, and gives it a squeeze. 

"Okay. We're gonna go outside. C'mon, stand up." Jensen lets Jared pull him to his feet and doesn't protest when Jared unhooks the ring of keys on his belt as he guides Jensen out the door and down the stairs.

It doesn't surprise him that Jared immediately gets to unlocking the Impala, but it does make him smile a little. First time in five days he's let himself.

They sit inside for what feels like an eternity, completely quiet except that Jensen's brain won't shut up. He keeps trying to see into the restaurant, to make sure that everything is running right. Jared just huffs a laugh when he does it, which makes Jensen check himself.

Finally, Jared says, "No one expects you to be okay right now, Jensen. No one expects you to be perfect at this."

"My dad would have," he responds, looking down at his hands. "When grandpa died, he only had to close for one day. Things were back on track in—"

"How old was he?" Jared asks. "How long had his dad been sick? I know…I know there's no preparing for things like that, not completely anyway. But he was ready for it. You're hardly more than a kid and no one saw this coming. You're allowed to make a few mistakes."

"Every day since I was younger than you are, he was training me so that when this happened, I wouldn't let him down."

"How have you let him down? By dropping a tray?" 

Jared takes one of Jensen's hands in his own, and Jensen realizes with a little bit of awe that Jared's fingers nearly engulf his. He knew the kid's been shooting up for the last few months, all those scrawny limbs stretching out, but he hadn't quite grasped how much.

"I'm going to," he says, quiet enough that Jared probably can't hear him. So he clears his throat and starts again, forcing his voice not to shake. "I'm gonna fail and everyone knows it. You've seen the way they look at me, like they think they're all gonna be out of a job in a month. Jeff's worked here for 15 years and now he's taking orders from someone he used to babysit. I'm a fucking joke, Jared."

"No," Jared replies, his tone sharp. "You said it yourself. You've been preparing for this for years. It's not gonna be easy, not right away. Some trays are gonna get dropped. Maybe you'll have to earn confidence from your staff. But you are not going to fail."

"You're just saying that," says Jensen. "You don't know the way they've been treating me. Everyone's just waiting for me to go off."

Jared smiles, reaches out to touch Jensen's face. "You think that has anything to do with the way you've been acting?"

"What do you mean?"

He watches Jared try to figure out how to say what he's about to say, until finally, Jared shifts and turns so that he's looking Jensen in the eye.

"You've been pretending you're fine," he says. "That's more worrying than just admitting you're not. You need to deal with this. You need to talk to someone and if...if I can help. I know I'm just some dumb kid to you, but you can talk to me."

Jensen shakes his head. Jared doesn't get it, and why should he? However regretfully young he's had to grow up, at the end of the day, he is a kid. Maybe not a dumb one, and Jensen isn't naïve enough to believe he's a happy one. But there's still some undercurrent of innocence to him, and Jensen doesn't wanna ruin that by talking now, by spilling all the things clouding his mind, like what his mother's body looked like after it had gone through a windshield.

But no one else has asked. Not that he's been alone—he hasn't had a moment alone. No one has given him that earnest, understanding look Jared is and offered to just _listen_.

He's heard wills being read out, seen to it that everyone got what was left to them, signed a million papers he didn't understand the words printed on. He's spent days sitting with lawyers whose names and faces he forgot as soon as they walked out of the room. One of them slapped him on the shoulder as he left, told Jensen he was lucky this hadn't happened a few months ago; if he'd still been a minor, it would have complicated his rights to the diner and the house. Lucky break.

Lucky Jensen organized a joint funeral, answered a million questions about flower arrangements and caskets and what kind of cheese would be served at the wake. He stood, stoic and unmoved as relatives and family friends cried to him, pouring out every memory they had with his dearly departed. _He_ comforted _them_.

He sat down and crunched numbers and figured out how much they would need to make this week just to breakeven. Opened the diner, drew up a shift schedule, prepared checks to go out. Went through all the motions.

No time to process what happened. Not a moment to sit and feel his own loss. He hasn't cried. He hasn't even gotten a chance to cry.

And here's Jared, hardly more than a child, newly six-foot-three and skinny bones poking out of a hoodie Jensen leant him a year ago, asking him to let it all out when not a single friend or relative has seen through his bullshit attempt to pass for someone who isn't about a minute from a nervous breakdown.

A part of him, crazy as the thought is, thinks Jared must have grown so much exactly for this moment, so he'd be big enough to catch Jensen. He wants nothing in the world more than to fall into those too-long arms and cry until he's all dried out.

But there's a restaurant not ten feet away from where they're sitting full of people who need their food and their marching orders and it's all on Jensen.

Jared waits for him to talk, and when Jensen stays silent, knowing if he says one word it'll all flood out, he starts talking instead. 

"I know your parents didn't like me much," he says, and Jensen begins to move because, yes, okay, this fits. Jensen can tell Jared he's wrong, even though he isn't really, and that's a comfortable part of the routine. He'll help Jared cope with whatever he's going through and keep right on focusing on that instead of—

"Don't," Jared says, turning his body enough to push Jensen down into the leather. "Don't tell me it's not true. Just listen."

He starts again, "What I mean to say is, we weren't close. So…so I know you'll think I'm just saying this to make you feel better, that I wouldn't really know. But I can read people, Jensen. Kind of have to, the way I grew up. You learn to read people. Your parents were good people. And they loved you. They loved you so much that I—" Jared bites his bottom lip and looks down, giving Jensen's hand a soft squeeze. "Didn't really believe people loved their kids like that."

Jensen frowns, and Jared still isn't looking at him as he continues, "You think they'd be ashamed of you? They never could be. You shoulda heard the way your momma talked about you when you were off doing something else, how responsible she thought you were. And your dad—I know he never said it. He would have, if he'd known this was gonna happen, I'd bet my life on it. I saw the way he watched you work. Jensen, he was so proud of you. 

"They're always gonna be proud of you, no matter what. What happened to them was terrible. It's not fair that this happened—" Jared looks up, his eyes so much older than his 14 years. He meets Jensen's gaze, and then he reaches out to touch Jensen's cheek. "It wasn't your fault. What happened to them was not your fault. You don't have anything to make up for."

Jensen shakes his head, and Jared pulls him down, so that his face is hidden against the soft material of a sweatshirt that used to be his own, but which is somehow much more familiar now that it's worn out and Jared-scented. There's something tugging at the edge of Jensen's heart that makes him sure, without any logical reason to think so, that there wouldn't be another person in the whole damn world who could make him feel this safe, this accepted.

So he breaks. He's so damn far from the edge of this cliff, and he finally lets gravity do its work. As soon as one sob has ripped its way from him, Jensen is crying against Jared's chest, so loud he can hardly hear the reassuring sounds Jared makes. He wouldn't be able to stop himself if he tried, but he's burnt out on trying anyway.

A knock on the window startles him. Jensen has no idea how long they've been here, it feels like hours, and he realizes whoever this is, they must be pissed. Taking a break is one thing, but the boss disappearing without warning, leaving a mess behind, is another.

"Who is it?" he asks, embarrassed by the fact that his voice is hardly comprehensible.

"Danneel," Jared replies, and Jensen's entire body rocks with the motion as his friend leans over and starts to roll the window down.

"Tell her I'll be right in," he says, wiping at his face to try and get himself under control.

Jared huffs and then he hears Danneel's voice, uncharacteristically gentle, the way it's been for days. She's been trying, Jensen knows, more than anyone else, and he does appreciate that. But Danneel has never been good at comforting, and her attempts at being kind have only served as a reminder.

"Hey," she says. "Is he—?"

"I've got him," Jared assures her, his hand still curled around Jensen's head, shielding him so she can't see that he's been crying. She probably knows, but Jensen is thankful nonetheless. "I'm going to take him home. You guys can handle closing, right?"

Danneel sounds surprised, probably because she knows Jensen wouldn't have agreed to that, but the relief in her voice is palpable. "Yes. Yeah, of course. Of course, it'll be fine, Jensen. We've got everything covered."

He feels some rattling as Jared unhooks the diner keys and hands them to Danneel through the open window, and then he's rolling it back up, closing them in here together again.

Jensen sits up once he's sure she's gone and takes long breaths, the way Jared told him to do earlier. It helps. He feels lighter now that he's cried some, even if there's still a world of shit weighing him down that he desperately does not want to burden Jared with.

Jared just gives him a tiny smile. "Come on."

He opens the door to the Impala and takes Jensen's hand and Jensen follows, hopeful that if he doesn't put up a struggle, Jared won't let go.

Once he's out of the car and in the open evening air, Jensen waits for Jared to drop his hand, but all he does is adjust the hold, so it's comfortable to walk. He leads Jensen a few steps through the parking lot, until Jensen stops him.

"My truck's in the other direction," says Jensen.

Jared shakes his head and pulls. "We're walking."

"I live almost three miles away, Jared. Down a dirt path with no lights, and the sun'll be setting soon."

"You know the way, don't you?" he asks, and Jensen nods. "Good. It'll give us plenty of time to talk."

Another string in Jensen's chest snaps, and it feels like his heart is almost free enough to start pumping again. He wonders if Jared somehow knows that he's frozen up every time he's gotten in his car since it happened, that he sits there for ten minutes before he can force himself to start the engine, and all he sees when he drives are roads painted in blood. 

Jared can't know that. It must just be instinct, like how he knows the exact way to touch Jensen and how to pitch his voice so that, for however brief a moment, it seems like maybe things will be okay again.

They make their way to Jensen's house as the sun sinks low in the sky, fingers tangled all the while. Jared talks at first, but eventually Jensen joins in. He doesn't bring up the ugly things, instead finds stupid, random memories of his parents that make them both smile.

"You know there aren't polar bears in Texas, right?"

Jensen snorts. "There are polar bears everywhere! Haven't you ever seen Lost?"

"I can't believe you fell for that," Jared says, walking in a slant so that he bumps into Jensen.

Jensen bumps him back and grins. "I was twelve! No one doubts their parents when they're twelve. He could have told me there were dragons out here and I would have believe him."

In the twilight, Jensen sees Jared's expression dim a little, but his voice is just as cheerful when he responds, "So, how did you find out you'd been duped?"

"Asked my mom if I could have a spear to walk home with to protect me from them." Jensen laughs. "Man, you should have seen my dad's face after she taught him a lesson about having fun at my expense. I bet he wished it had just been a polar bear he'd gone up against."

Jared practically roars, and Jensen watches him crack up for so long that by the time he manages to take his eyes off the kid, they're standing on his stoop. And he realizes Jared's still got his keys.

He holds out his hand for them, expecting Jared to give them over and start on his long walk home, but instead Jared climbs to the door and lets them both in, guiding Jensen along like a lost sheep. 

"You need to rest," he says. "I know it's still pretty early. But I think a good night's sleep will help."

Jensen doesn't argue. There's no way he gets sleep tonight, god knows he's been trying. He'll lie there for hours, staring at the posters on his walls and feeling oddly disconnected from his own childhood home until the sun breaks in through the window and he has to get up to open the diner. Same as he has every night this week.

But he lets Jared help him out of his street clothes anyway, until he's standing at the edge of his bed in a loose t shirt and his boxers.

"Thanks," he says, waiting for Jared to go. "For everything. I mean it."

Jared doesn't move so much as a toe toward the door. He takes Jensen's shoulders in his hands and steers him down, until he's sitting on the mattress, and then watches silently as Jensen lies down on his side and pulls the sheets over himself.

"I'll leave the keys on the nightstand," he tells Jensen. "I'll be back at the diner after school tomorrow, so if you need me—"

Suddenly, Jensen seizes forward and grabs Jared's arm. Before the kid can drop his keys and leave. He doesn't even really know what he's doing, just knows he doesn't want to be alone. Not another night alone in this house he could never get any privacy in.

"Stay," he says, voice edging toward begging. "Please, stay. I just..."

 _I want to be held,_ he thinks, but he can't say it. It's too much to ask for, except that Jared's face melts, and he whispers, "of course" before crawling in on the other side, wrapping Jensen up in all his warmth.

Jensen does sleep. He sleeps and when he wakes up, he's still lying in Jared's arms, his face creased by the wrinkles on Jared's sweatshirt from sleeping pressed against his chest.

Jared is awake already, and in the back of his head, Jensen is pretty sure the kid should be up by now, getting ready for school. He stays quiet instead of bringing that up, because, selfish as it is, he can't imagine losing Jared right now.

For a few minutes, they just stare at each other, Jensen's breath coming slowly. He's not sure what he's waiting for, but he knows there's something. Then Jared leans down, his lips finding Jensen's.

It's not a hungry kiss. It's not a kiss that means anything but comfort, such a soft pressure against his mouth. Jensen knows he should push Jared away, like the last time Jared tried to kiss him. He can’t make his shaking arms do anything but pull Jared closer, and he hates himself for that. Jensen was supposed to do right by Jared; instead, somewhere along the road, he fell in love with the kid.

When Jared breaks away, he presses another kiss, just as tender, to Jensen's forehead, and that's as far as it goes. Half an hour later, he's on his feet getting dressed.

He smiles at Jensen before he walks out the door, says, "I know it’s not worth much, but I believe in you."

_______________________________________________________________

It's touch-and-go for the first few months, and Jensen finds that he has a lot of learning to do. But he allows himself to ask for help after Jared's intervention and finds that his more experienced staff don't resent having to teach him some of the tricks they've picked up. They even appreciate that he's willing to acknowledge the things they know that he doesn't.

Baby's survives. The diner eventually begins to settle into the new management, and while it's not raking in millions any more than it was before Jensen took over, it's not on the edge of downfall every week, either. He makes enough to keep going, to hold on to the roof over his head, pay his staff, and even—he knows his father's head would spin if he knew—he sets aside enough to take care of Jared, see that the kid gets fed regularly and eats a damn vegetable every now and again.

He takes pride in the way Jared begins to fill out, all those sunken bones gaining muscle that fits much better on his big frame. He's still a little on the lanky side, but Jensen is confident he'll have a healthy build in a few months, if he ever stops growing up and up and up. 

Jensen does his best to only think about that for the right reasons, not let himself stare too much at the new ripple of Jared's back under his thin t shirts, or dream of tracing the veins in his arms with his tongue. He's not very good at it. Jared seems to get more beautiful every day.

Right now, he's washing the Impala, because he's the only person in the world aside from Jensen that can do it right. Jared appreciates the importance of the task, instead of seeing it as one more chore to get through before punch-out time.

But he's soaking wet and shirtless just a few feet from the diner window, and Jensen's not really equipped to handle it.

"Earth to Jensen." Jensen stands up from where he was leaning on the counter, shakes his head a bit and blinks a few times. "Come in Jensen."

Jensen reluctantly tears his eyes away from Jared and gives Danneel a smile. "Yeah, what? What is it?"

"You've been standing there with that glazed look on your face for like a full twenty minutes now. Not for nothing, but you're terrible at inspiring productivity in your workers."

"Did you have something you needed, or do you just want to annoy me?"

Danneel frowns, the look on her face crushed. "Oh, Jensen. I thought you knew me better by now. I'm so hurt you'd think I would ever want anything other than to annoy you."

He huffs a laugh and rolls his eyes. "Well, you're doing a fine job so far."

"Thanks, boss!" she says, her false sadness giving way to a shit-eating grin. "It's always such a boost to have my work appreciated."

Jensen hears the door jingle as someone comes in, but he resolutely keeps his eyes on Danneel, knowing if he looks to the door, he'll just end up staring at Jared again. One of the waitresses will get the customer.

"I know why you're so distracted," she teases.

"Oh yeah?" he asks, trying not to look like the particular brand of pervert he apparently is. "Why?"

"It's Thursday," she says. "Almost 5:30. Gil the beautiful vegetable delivery man will be here any minute."

Jensen nearly chokes on his relief. He likes Gil well enough. The guy really is gorgeous, and he's sweet, and Jensen has enjoyed what they've gotten up to on the scattered dates they've gone on. Maybe he would be interested in more if it weren't for a certain scrawny teenager who keeps Jensen's heart too locked up for him to really think of anyone else. Instead, he'd forgotten Gil was scheduled to make a delivery at all.

Still, he plays along, ducking his head and shoving at Danneel's side. "Shut up. I'm completely focused."

"Nuh uh, you aren't. You're thinking about your boyfriend."

"He is _not_ my boyfriend," Jensen says, feeling his skin start to burn as Danneel's voice grows louder and bolder.

She turns and announces, "Jensen's nervous about his boyfriend coming today, so no one embarrass him," to the entire kitchen.

"Go do your job!" says Jensen with a laugh.

There's a cough from the counter, and Jensen's laugh gets caught in his throat when he looks up and realizes it's Jared, not a new customer, sitting at the counter. Jared's expression is unreadable, and Jensen cuts his eyes away immediately, feeling like the kid can see right through him.

"Hey, Jared," he says, pretending to wipe at a spot on the counter. "All done cleaning Baby up?"

"Yeah" is all he says, and finally Jensen can't keep his eyes to himself.

When he looks up, Jared's sitting patiently, waiting for Jeff to cook up whatever he's just ordered as payment for helping out. Jensen is already counting down the days until Jared turns 15 and is old enough to actually work, even though it's almost a year away.

"How does she look?"

"Perfect," Jared says. "She always looks perfect." He pauses for a little while and then, as if he can't hold himself back any longer, he demands, "Is it true? Is the delivery guy your boyfriend?"

"I…no," Jensen stutters. "He's just. A guy."

"I've seen him," Jared says, weirdly aggressive. "He's okay. Not that great if you ask me."

"He's really nice," Jensen replies.

Jensen can see Jared biting the inside of his cheek, but finally he says, "Sorry. Not my business, anyway."

He rounds the counter and takes a seat on the stool next to Jared. "You alright?"

Jared nods and smiles at Jeff as he sets a chicken sandwich down in front of him, then immediately takes the top bun off and starts poking at it.

"You better have taken that off because you're planning to put condiments on. You're not getting rid of the tomatoes."

Even though he groans, Jared's mouth turns up in the corner for the first time since he came in. "Aww, come on, Jensen. Don't be like that."

"You're eating your damn vegetables!" he insists.

For a few seconds, Jared looks dutifully annoyed, but then a dark look flashes across his face, and when he smiles and leans in, Jensen knows he's in trouble. "I'll eat the tomatoes if you ditch work and come see a movie with me."

"This isn't math class," Jensen says, raising an eyebrow. "I can't just skip it."

"Sure you can, you're the boss. What's the point of being boss if you never get time off?"

He shakes his head. "Who's gonna sign for the delivery? Or close?"

"Jeff," Jared says. "Danneel. Jeff and Danneel. Danneel and Jeff." He grins, and Jensen feels like his brain is being washed out by the brightness of those big white teeth. "C'mon, Jensen. Come hang out with me. We never hang out."

Jensen hesitates, then looks down at himself. "Nah, look at me, Jared. I'm a mess. I smell like the kitchen. We'll do it some other time."

"I think you look good," says Jared, and even though he knows Jared's just trying to get him to agree, it makes him lose most of his ability to resist. "But we could do the drive-in theatre. It's not far from here. Then no one will smell you except me."

Jensen thinks it over for about half a minute before Jared puts a hand on top of his on the counter, and when Jensen looks up, Jared looks so damn earnest. "Please?"

An hour later, they're across town, stationed at the drive-in theatre in the back of Jensen's pick-up truck, waiting for the sun to set so the movie can start. The one they picked is something about cars—Jensen hasn't seen anything else in the franchise, but Jared had been so excited about it, and, well. Jensen's got a weak spot ten miles wide, there's no use pretending otherwise at this point.

"Gimme the popcorn!" Jared demands, reaching across Jensen as he tries to hold it out somewhere those long arms won't reach.

"You've already eaten like half!" Jensen says, shoving him away with his other hand. "There won't be any left by the time it starts."

Jared laughs and nearly tackles him, climbing over Jensen to get at the popcorn. A year ago, maybe even just a few short months ago, Jensen would have laughed and kept playing along. Now, Jared nearly in his lap has an instant effect on him, and Jensen immediately shoves the popcorn into Jared's hands just to get rid of the hum of arousal.

He hates himself as soon as Jared sits back, looking down at the greasy bag in his hand with a mix of confusion and disappointment. Jensen used to think of Jared as a little brother. He'd always wanted a sibling, desperately, someone to share stupid roughhousing like this with. 

Mom had been sick when she was young; the doctors had all told her she'd never have a baby. His parents had nearly given up—they were about to start looking into adoption the day she found out she was pregnant. Jensen had been her miracle. There was never going to be a little brother or sister for him, and then Jared came along, tugging at Jensen's heartstrings from the first, and he'd thought for so long that's what this was.

Seeing Jared's flushed cheeks now and feeling the growing need to touch as it wells up inside of him makes Jensen want to claw his traitorous heart right out of his chest. He knows what this kid's been through. He was supposed to be safe ground for Jared.

Jensen looks away, turning toward the screen and wishing the sun would just set already so they could get distracted by whatever mindless explosions and gratuitous violence this movie will provide.

For a long time, they're both quiet. It's nearly dark when Jared asks, "Do you love him? The delivery guy, do you love him?"

Jensen is surprised by that, both the seeming randomness of the question and the fact that Jared could ever think Jensen loves anyone else. But he deserves to feel safe. If he doesn't know how Jensen feels and Jensen can just keep that part of himself hidden, he can still do Jared some good.

"No, not yet," he says. "But maybe someday."

Jared sounds off when he replies, "You should. He'd be good for you."

Jensen has no clue what the hell to say to that, but mercifully the movie starts. If Jensen spends more time watching the light flicker on Jared's face, the way the kid smiles at every cheap thrill, Jared never has to know.

_______________________________________________________________

Beer in hand, Jensen is just settling down in front of the TV after a long shift when a knock at the door pulls him out of it. He takes a minute to wonder who it is—Jensen's house is pretty far in the middle of what used to be a farm before his grandpa decided he'd rather cook food than grow it and had the diner built on the edge of their land. Visitors don't really drop by unannounced.

Another knock comes, this one more insistent, and Jensen grudgingly gets back onto his sore feet, turns off the television and makes his way across the house.

"Better not be trying to sell me a vacuum cleaner," Jensen mutters as he unlocks the door and swings it open.

Jared is standing on the other side, which is maybe not as surprising as Jensen feels like it is, but he wishes it had occurred to him before he opened up.

He's still wearing the grease-stained wife beater he'd had on under his uniform all day, a beer dangling from his fingertips, and Jensen knows the last few months of work, diner food, and coming home too exhausted to do anything but crash have left him with a bit of a gut. Fuck, he must look like even more of a slob than he usually does when Jared's around.

"Jared, hey," he says. "Um, what's up?"

Jared blinks at him a few times, then sways forward, and Jensen realizes how out of focus his eyes are. His body tenses, and he immediately reaches out, checking Jared for new bruises or open wounds. He's both relieved and surprised when he doesn't find anything, but when he looks up again, Jared's face is more wrecked than he's ever seen it.

Fuck, Jared's usually so intent on keeping Jensen from worrying that he smiles through his busted lip, and now here he is, no apparent reason to be shaken up, and yet he looks like he was just in a blender.

"Jared, are you okay, man? Talk to me."

"Am I okay?" Jared repeats, letting out a little laugh as he says it. "What do you think the threshold is for that? Like, how does one determine if they're okay or not? We never think about things like that, do we?"

A scent wafts over Jensen as Jared rambles on, and he can't help if he feels a little like a disappointed dad when he asks, "Is that tequila? Jesus, Jared, are you drunk?"

"Had to come here," he says, grinning. "Had to leave because if he finds out I was in his liquor, I think he'd kill me. Which—" Jared starts laughing, and Jensen doesn't really find any of this funny. "Actually, wouldn't be the worst thing he could do, right? Wouldn't be the worst thing."

"Dude," Jensen says. He grabs Jared by one shoulder and pulls him inside, shutting the door behind them loud enough that Jared cringes at the sound. "What are you thinking?"

Jared shrugs, looks around the foyer, and then back at Jensen. "Was thinking about you. Been such a long time since I saw you, so I thought I'd take a walk."

"It's after midnight. You walked here from town? Like this?" Jensen sighs. "I saw you two days ago, man."

"That's a long time when." Jared licks his lips. "Don't send me away. Please. Don't send me away."

That makes Jensen forget about the lecture he was about to start in on. "Of course not. Come here. Come sit with me."

Jared follows when Jensen takes his hand and walks him to the couch. He sits Jared down and gets a glass of water from the kitchen, and Jared takes a sip as Jensen settles in the chair next to the sofa and looks him in the face.

"You're gonna tell me what happened," Jensen says. "Jared, I need you to tell me what happened."

Jared shakes his head, and Jensen knows already. He'll try to change the subject. He'll avoid it. He won't provide details, or give Jensen a name or address. Nothing he can use to actually help Jared. It's been five years of that, and Jensen can't keep watching this. Jared had seemed so much better lately that Jensen had actually let himself hope maybe he'd finally ended up somewhere half decent.

"He doesn't hit me. This one doesn't hit me. Not unless he's drunk, and even then, only sometimes." Jared smiles at him. "Thought you'd like that."

"What _does_ he do?" Jensen asks. Jared just stares at the water in his hand until Jensen follows up, "You wouldn't be here, like this, if he wasn't hurting you."

"What's it matter?" Jared replies, his voice a whisper.

"How could you say that?" Jensen says. "Jared, of course it matters. It matters to me and I know it matters to you."

"So what? What are you gonna do about it?" Jared looks up at him. "Please just let me stay here tonight. I can't go back there tonight. I was stupid, and I drank, and I know you're upset about that and I'm sorry. Everyone says it makes you forget and I just wanted—it doesn't work anyway. Haven't forgotten anything."

Jensen's hand curls into a fist. He's not a violent person, but right about now he wants to crack the skull of someone whose name and face he doesn't even know. "Tell me who he is. Tell me what he does. I'll call CPS and you won't ever have to go back there."

"Ah, what's the point? I get taken away, they send me to another place just as bad. Bad in a different way, or the same way. Or even worse, one of those prisons they call a boys' home where they won't even let me out long enough to come see you. At least I know what I'm getting with this one."

He gets an idea. A fucking crazy idea, but why not? Why couldn't it work? "I'll adopt you."

Jared's head shoots right up, and he laughs. "What?"

"I'm an adult. I've got an income." Jensen smiles, reaching out to grab Jared's hand. "I've got room for you. I don’t actually know what I'd have to do, but I know some lawyers. I can talk to them first thing tomorrow."

"Am I drunk or are you?" Jared asks dismissively, but Jensen ignores it, yanks the kid to his feet and pulls him along faster than he probably should, considering Jared's current state. But he's kind of thrilled by this plan he's cooking up. It's been too quiet here the last few months, and now he actually has the means to help Jared the way he's always wished he could.

He stops in front of the room that used to be his own, pushes the door open, and brings Jared to stand in front of him. "Remember? This used to be my room. I've still got the bedframe in the shed out back. I'll have to get you a new mattress, but look." He points into the corner. "Those drawers still have all my old clothes in them. I bet most of them would fit you, though maybe they'll be a little small."

Jared doesn't move, just keeps staring into what is now Jensen's office, and Jensen kind of hopes he's rearranging furniture in his head, too excited to respond. "You'll be 15 in just a few months, too. You can come work at the diner, like you've always wanted to. When you're not at school, that is. I'll take good care of you. No one will hurt you again."

Jensen is honestly expecting Jared to be delighted, so it's like a knife through the chest when Jared starts crying. Not a soft crying, either, a sob that feels deafening. When he turns to face Jensen, there are tears streaming down his face.

"Please, stop. Please," he begs. "Don't do that, Jensen. Don't promise me things like that."

"What's wrong?" Jensen asks, decidedly crestfallen. "You don't want to come live with me?"

"I want it!" His voice is so hysterical it's nearly a shout. "I want it. It's all I've ever wanted."

Jensen gives him a puzzled smile. "Hey, so what's wrong? Why are you crying?"

Jared lets out another sob, and when Jensen steps forward to hold him, Jared instantly burrows, hiding his face in Jensen's neck. He says something, but it's so soft and his words are incomprehensible between the slurring and the crying.

"What? I didn't—"

"You won't keep me," Jared answers. "Nobody ever does."

"Of course I will," he says, shifting so that Jared is looking directly at him, so that he can see how much Jensen means what he's saying. "Jared, I want this to be your home, as long as you need one."

Jared's lips tremble and another tear slips down his cheek. "You think that now. I'll get too old or I'll be too much trouble and not worth the check or you'll realize I'm no good. You'll get tired of me. Everyone does. I don't care anymore, but if it was you. If you threw me out like everyone else does—"

"I would _never_ do that," Jensen promises. "Don't you trust me?"

"I trust that you think you mean what you're saying," Jared responds, reaching up and cupping Jensen's face, and his expression wavers, but he manages not to cry again. "I know you mean it now. You wouldn't lie to me. But it'll change. It always does."

Before he can try to insist that Jared is wrong, Jared's whole body changes its stance. There's suddenly a look of desperation in him that frankly terrifies Jensen.

"I know what you want," he says. "I can give you what you want, for as long as you want it."

He seizes forward and kisses Jensen, and it's nothing like the last time Jared kissed him. This time it's hungry, lustful, full of dark promises. Jensen feels like a monster, because Jared isn't wrong, not entirely. This is something he wants, something he's stayed awake at night thinking about. Every filthy flick of Jared's tongue sends a spark through his body, and Jensen's instinct is to pull Jared in and hold him here forever.

So he musters up all the strength he can and shoves Jared away, hard. "No. Jared, that's not why—"

"But you want it," Jared insists. "You want it, and I can give you it. And you'll keep me for a while. I'm not like the delivery boy, I'm not the kind of person you can love. I know what I'm good for. I know it's all I'm good for. But I'm good. I'll make you feel so good."

"Stop it," he says. 

"I know it's what you want," Jared continues, sounding confused. "I've seen the way you look at me. I'm telling you, you can have it. Anything I have that you want, take it."

Jensen shakes his head. "It doesn't matter what I want. I wouldn't do that to you. I'd die first."

"But you said I could stay," Jared replies, sounding so innocent despite the subject matter that it makes Jensen's head spin. Like the concept of someone wanting to help him without asking for something terrible in return is completely alien to him. "I was just trying to do my part."

"God, Jared, do you even realize how fucked up that is? Because I don't think you do." 

Jared stays quiet, and Jensen looks away from him. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm not any better than the rest of the bastards who've done that to you. I wanted you to have somewhere safe, and I can't—" He swallows a lump and shakes his head. "You're welcome here. If you want to stay, I'll go see the lawyers tomorrow. But I'm begging you. If you do come live here, don't offer that to me again, Jared. Please. I'll hate myself if I ever touch you, but you're right. I do want you. And I don't trust myself to keep pushing you away."

With that, he turns and walks down the hall to his room, too ashamed to look at Jared again before he closes himself off inside.

_______________________________________________________________

Just like the first time Jared stayed the night, Jensen wakes up in the early morning because he hears something in the next room over. It's not crying this time, more like a rattling sound, and Jensen shoves the covers aside to investigate.

A quick peek into the living room confirms that Jared's not on the couch asleep, though the pillow and blankets he usually uses are spread out, and Jensen is relieved that Jared was able to get some rest after what happened the night before.

He goes to his office, because it's not a big house, and that's the next most likely place for Jared to be. A part of him hopes that Jared really is rearranging furniture, making himself as much at home as he can.

What he sees when he reaches the doorway chills him to the bone. Jared's back is to the entrance, and the lights are all off, but there's enough moonlight streaming in through the windows, lighting up Jared's silhouette, that what's happening is unmistakable. Undeniable.

Jared is standing over the desk, the cashbox Jensen kept locked on the edge broken open. He's holding all the cash the diner's brought in since Jensen last went into town and made a deposit, nearly three weeks' worth. He's counting it.

Jensen realizes why Jared was staring so intently into this room earlier, and it wasn't because he was imagining living in it at all.

His first instinct is one he'll hate himself for until the day he dies. He can't stop himself from thinking, _you're everything my father said you were._

The words are on the tip of his tongue, but when he clears his throat to speak, Jared lifts his head, not turning to look at him, but signaling that he knows Jensen is there. "I could run away with this," he says. "I wouldn't ever have to go back there."

If Jensen had been the man he wanted to be, he could have offered Jared something better than that. But instead he went and fell for Jared, became a pervert just like everyone else Jared's ever known. If Jensen were a better man, he could have offered Jared a place to live, and Jared would have been able to accept it. He can't be upset with Jared for wanting to take his money and run.

"Yeah," he says. "You could."

Jared turns to face Jensen, and Jensen sees how crazed he looks. "Are you going to call the police?"

Jensen shakes his head. "I'm not going to call the police. I won't stop you."

The moonlight glints off Jared's cheek, and that's the only way he knows the kid is crying. Jared's voice hardly shakes. "You should. Send me to juvy. I've been worse places."

"Do you want that?" Jensen asks, crossing his arms over his chest. "Is that really the best thing you can imagine for yourself?"

"It's where I belong," Jared replies, lifting his hands to draw attention to the money he's grasping, so tight it looks like he's holding on for dear life. "Just look at me. No one has ever cared about me except for you. You're the only person who has ever been nice to me. Kept offering more and more, and here I am trying to steal from you."

Jensen steps forward, intending to comfort Jared, but Jared immediately falls back, knocking into the desk in his haste to get away. Reminding Jensen he's a threat to Jared now, and he should stay as goddamn far away as possible. 

"You must hate me," Jared whispers.

"I don't hate you." Jensen licks his lips and frowns down at the floor. "If you take that money, I'll lose the diner. Without the diner, I'll lose the house. Jeff and Danneel and everyone who works there, they'll all be out of a job. But I will understand why you did it, and I won't report you. It's your choice. I'm going back to bed."

He turns from the room and avoids the urge to look when he hears Jared moving quickly inside. Jensen doesn't want to see Jared rushing to take what he can and get out. He doesn't want to see the lost little boy look on Jared's face. He doesn't want to imagine all the ways this could have gone differently if he'd just been what Jared needed. All he wants is to sink into sleep, and if it could make him forget this, Jensen would pay all the money in that box all over again.

_______________________________________________________________

When he wakes up the next morning, he's not surprised to find no trace of Jared on the couch or anywhere else in the house. He goes into the office, already assuming the cash will be gone. He's determined to try to figure out a way not to fold without that money, which means starting early and staring at his budget until his eyes bleed.

The cashbox is closed and sitting on the same corner it had been on when Jared found it, but there's something else resting on top. As soon as Jensen gets close enough to see it, his heart sinks impossibly lower.

He picks up the white plastic by the little metal clasp on the back, reads JARED in bright red letters. He'd forgotten about the nametag, about Jared's silly childhood dream to work at Baby's. Never would have imagined Jared was holding onto it all these years.

Jensen slips it into his pocket, not able to talk himself into tossing it in the trashcan by the desk, takes a deep breath, and opens the metal box.

Three times. He counts the money over three times. Jared didn't keep a dime.

He waits all day for Jared to come to the diner so he can say thank you. He waits a week. Two. He tries to recreate the luck he'd had last time Jared disappeared on him, drives down to the local high school and asks around. One blonde kid with squinty eyes remembers Jared, but he hasn't seen him in months and doesn’t know where to find him.

The bike they keep out front for Jared to ride into town is starting to grow rusty when Jensen finally gives up. He takes it home and locks it in the shed out back, along with the bed that should have been in Jared's room and the name of the boy he fell so hideously in love with.

_______________________________________________________________

Almost two years pass before he sees Jared again.

Jensen is working a late, late shift—the kind that he usually schedules his night owls and new employees to work and stays far, _far_ away from himself. Today, though, he's had two people call out sick and they were already understaffed, so he dragged his ass back to work after a short nap between the morning shift and this one.

He's tired and cranky and only forty-five glorious minutes away from closing. So he hardly glances up at the table he's waiting on before barking, "What do you want?"

"Service here sure has gotten less friendly since yesterday," says the person on the other side of the booth, the one Jensen hadn't even half-acknowledged.

The voice is one he would recognize until his dying day, even if he never heard it again. It's like a bolt of lightning shoots right through him, and Jensen can't control how quickly his head snaps up, the way his arms drop to the side in the jolt of excitement.

Sure enough, the first thing he sees are teeth so big and bright he could go blind looking at them. He's so stunned stupid that he almost thinks he's gotten to the other end of this shift and then some, that the sun came up at some point without him realizing.

It's better than that, though. The kid has shot up even more than before, his always long hair shaggier now, thinner than when he last left Jensen, but still so broad he seems to take up the entire booth he's sitting at. Jensen's heart speeds up when he realizes he's at the right booth and everything. It's really him.

"Jared?" he asks dumbly, and Jared's smile mutes some, until it's just a nervous curl at the corner of his lips.

"Hey, Jensen," he says.

For a few moments, Jensen just stands there and blinks, until the other guy at the table anxiously asks, "You guys know each other?" 

It's like a spell breaks, and Jensen checks back into reality to observe who it is sitting in his diner at this ridiculous hour with the boy he thought he'd lost forever. The guy is older but not unattractive, and Jensen wonders for a moment if it's Jared's dad—if Jared even has a dad, and if he does, how the bastard could dare to show his face in public after the hell he's put Jared through.

Then Jared smiles at the guy, reaching out to touch his hand reassuringly, and the way the man looks back at him is decidedly not familial. It makes Jensen's stomach turn, but Jared seems fond enough, and if he's ended up with some much older boyfriend, what matters is that he's at least happy.

"Yeah, I know him," he replies. "Don't gotta worry, Mark. Jensen is good people."

The guy squirms a bit in his seat before ordering some hotcakes, leaving Jared to ask for a tuna melt with a side of fries—hold the coleslaw—and a Coke. Jensen is so baffled by the whole moment that he takes the order and heads back to the kitchen in a daze.

Two minutes later, Jensen is peeking through the order window in the kitchen and watching Jared as he says something that makes Mark laugh, his hand still holding Mark's with his thumb rubbing soothingly, as if he's trying to keep the guy at ease. Jensen feels halfway like the creep he is, half like he's having his heart stomped on by a stampede.

"Are you alright, boss?"

Jensen turns and finds Kim watching him with a raised eyebrow, her no-nonsense mom face, and hands on her hips. He backs away from the window, completely caught out, and gives her a sideways smile. "I'm fine," he says.

"There a reason you're spying on your own restaurant?" she asks. "Don't trust Adrianne not to snake the silverware now?"

"What? No!" Jensen hesitates for a moment, but he's got to know. He turns and points through the window to the corner Jared's sitting in and asks, "Has he been here before?"

Kim shrugs. "I just cook the food."

Adrianne walks in then and sees them both huddled by the window. She doesn't even pause before joining them. Adrianne did always love her gossip. "What are we looking at?"

"Jensen thinks you're stealing silverware again," Kim jokes as she takes the slip of paper Adrianne holds up for her and returns to her station at the grill.

"The spoon fell into my apron!" she says, rolling her eyes. "It's been four months. When is this going to stop being funny?"

Jensen tears his eyes away from Jared for only a moment, giving Adrianne an apologetic smile. "Probably if it hadn't fallen out and landed in your eye at the end of the night, it would already have gotten old, but…"

She sighs. "I wish it had been a knife. Then I could have sued your ass. Worker's comp or whatever. Plus, I'd get an eye patch."

"No one is going to give you money for getting stabbed by the utensils you were trying to take home with you."

"I wasn't trying to—" She narrows her eyes. "What are you doing by the window, anyway?"

He points to Jared. "Have you seen that kid here before?"

"Jared?" she asks. "Sure. He's been in during all my shifts for the last few weeks. Nice guy. Certainly more pleasant than most of the drunk losers that come in at this time. Too bad about all the…" She waves her hands in the air as if that's going to finish her sentence, then frowns. "But what are you gonna do? He's not causing problems, is he?"

"No, I…" Jensen rubs his hand over his face and looks away from her. He was about to demand how it could be that no one mentioned Jared being here before, but his brain jumps in just in time to remind him that none of the night staff would have any way to know what Jared being here would mean to him. "I know him, that’s all."

"Here, then take him his sandwich," says Kim from across the kitchen.

Jensen retrieves the food and carries it back out, rushing through the pleasantries in a way he would lecture any other employee for. He just can't find a professional balance with all the directions his emotions are flowing: joy and relief at seeing Jared, alive and healthy and smiling all the way to his crooked incisor, mixed with the sting of knowing he's been coming here for weeks but only during the shift Jensen doesn't work, and then the ugly envy when Mark holds his fork out, letting Jared try his food while his eyes go dark and focus on Jared's pretty pink mouth.

He practically drops their plates on the table and flees.

When it comes time to collect the check, he has every intention of convincing Adrianne to go out and take his place, but he can't get the words out. All he can think is that this could be it. Maybe Jared will disappear again, and Jensen really won't ever see him. At least this time he'll know to say goodbye.

Jared doesn't look as chipper now as he had when he'd first seen Jensen, but he's still smiling when he thanks him for the meal. He turns to Mark, a sweet look on his face and says, "Make sure you give Jensen a real good tip. You know, for his discretion."

"Right, of course," Mark says, still all nervous and twitchy on the other side of the table. "So appreciated."

Mark raises his head enough to give Jensen a rushed smile and then gets to sorting through his wallet for bills to pay the check. Jensen tries to leave, but he feels Jared catch his wrist and he stops right away, like a trained dog.

"Thank you," he says. "It was really delicious. Food here always has been."

"Yeah," Jensen replies. "Thanks. I'm glad…"

He chokes and shakes his head and tries to get free, but Jared won't let go. "It was so good to see you, Jensen. So good to see you."

Instead of asking why, if it's so good to see him, Jared hasn't told anyone to let Jensen know he was here or tried coming during an earlier shift, he waits for Jared to release him and then hides like the coward he is until it's time to collect the check.

_______________________________________________________________

So, there it is. The whole sad story of how Jensen ended up here, trapped in his own diner, watching the procession of men Jared runs through night after night, his help unwelcome and his ability to walk away from the whole mess more compromised by the moment.

It's the way Jared says his name, so sweet and full of meaning, and Jensen knows, he _knows_ it'll be someone else's name Jared's screaming soon. But every day he resolves to put his foot down, to tell Jared to go somewhere else if he has to do this, and every night he sees the caged animal look in the back of Jared's eyes, hidden behind all that hair and so many easy smiles.

Jensen wasn't there when Jared needed him, that's what it boils down to. This never would have happened if it wasn't for him. And at the end of the day, he can't, can't, can't chase Jared away if this is what he needs now.

_______________________________________________________________

Like any good addict, Jensen immediately switches himself onto late shifts in defiance of all logic and has Jeff take over as day manager. He sets things up the next night so that he can catch Jared if he shows up again and is there when Jared comes in just after midnight, another guy on his heels.

Jensen watches them cross the diner, until Jared takes his usual spot at the corner table, and that makes him smile, even if the rest of it is just confusing. Standing up, Jensen can see the way Jared's dressed: much too tight t shirt riding up on him, exposing most of his stomach, his jeans slung low on his hips. It's not the shabby hand-me-downs he used to wear, but there's something vulgar in the outfit and the sway in his walk.

The guy Jared is with tonight—decidedly not Mark—is huge, built like a brick wall. He shoves himself in on the same side of the booth as Jared and slings his arm over Jared's shoulder possessively. Jared gives him a tight smile as he tries to put a few inches of room between them, but the guy is oblivious or indifferent to Jared's discomfort.

It makes Jensen's blood boil, but he manages to walk his way over, plaster on a big smile and go through his welcome spiel much better than he had the night before. If Jared is surprised to see him back again, he doesn't show it. Just orders a turkey sandwich like this is the most regular thing in the world.

When Jensen returns with the food, the guy's hand is high on Jared's thigh, trying to go higher as Jared pushes it down and away.

"Not here," he's saying. "Later."

"C'mon, darlin', don't make me wait all night."

Jensen sets the plates down hard, enjoying the way the asshole draped over Jared starts at the sound of the glass clattering on the tabletop. He doesn't rush away like he had the night before; instead he stands at the end of the table glaring down. "Is there anything else I can get you?"

"Nah, this is fine," the guy says, looking up at Jensen like he can't imagine where in the world the hostility is coming from.

Jared smiles in that off way again and says, "Thanks, Jensen."

He watches from the kitchen this time for twenty full minutes until Jared gets up and heads to the bathroom. The guy he's with lets him through, watching Jared's ass as he walks away and then giving his burger a smug smile.

Jensen's hands bunch into fists, and he starts walking without even thinking, ignoring the "Jensen, you okay?" Kim shouts after him.

He slides into the booth across from the guy, and the man lifts his head, tilting it to the side a bit. "Uh, hello?"

"He's sixteen," Jensen snaps. "Did you know that?"

The guy shrugs. "Told me he was eighteen."

"Well, he's not." Jensen narrows his eyes. "Does that make you reconsider anything about the way your night's going?"

The guy laughs. "Far as I'm concerned, he's eighteen."

"How about if I call the cops?" Jensen asks. "You gonna change your mind if I do that?"

"I've got a wife, family, a respectable job." The asshole smiles. "Who do you think is gonna have more trouble if you call the cops, me or the kid?"

Jensen's lips thin, and before he can say anything else, Jared is hovering above them. "Ty, Jensen, is there a problem?"

Ty grins at Jensen and scoots over, making room for Jared under his arm, and Jensen stands up as soon as Jared slots in, feeling powerless and upset and just plain sad. "I was just telling Jensen here how perfectly cooked this burger is."

Jared smiles. "Told you the food here was good."

Jensen takes the check out of his pocket and shoves it at Ty without bothering to ask if they want anything else and grabs Jared by the shoulder, pulling him outside. "I need to talk to you."

As soon as the door shuts behind them, Jensen rounds on him. 

"Who is that guy? Why are you dressed like that?" Jared's cheeks turn the patchy pink color that always used to make Jensen laugh as he blushes and looks down at himself, one of his hands skating over his stomach as if he's trying to cover up. Jensen waits a beat for Jared to answer, and when he doesn't, he demands, "Tell me this isn't what it looks like."

"Jensen," Jared says. "Please don't get upset."

"You can't be intending to let that fucking guy—you're not—"

"What?" Jared asks. He lifts his head, and he's still bright pink, but there's a look of defiance in his expression now that Jensen's never seen. "You can't say it? Come on, Jensen. It's not like you had big aspirations for me. This really that surprising?"

"Not this," he says. "Anything but this. You—you don't like to be touched."

Jared frowns and then smooths it out into a neutral expression. "It's not so bad when you're getting paid for it."

"Yes, it is," says Jensen. "Jared, you're just a kid. How long has this been going on?"

He looks down and shrugs. "I couldn't keep bouncing around. I couldn't run away without any money, but I didn't wanna keep going from one shitty home to the next, man, I couldn't do that anymore. So I did what I needed to in order to take care of myself. It's better this way."

For a long moment, Jensen just stands there, dumbfounded. Every question he thinks to ask is worse than the one before. It doesn't seem possible that a kid could just slip through like this, that no one cared enough to catch it. But then, knowing how Jared's life had been before, maybe it's not really that surprising.

"This whole time, then," he says. "Almost two years."

"Yeah," Jared answers. "Since that night, pretty much."

"You should have just taken the money," he says, and he probably doesn't really mean it, but damn does he feel like it right now. Jensen knows he can't say it out loud, but everything in him is shouting that this is all his fault. If he hadn't driven Jared away that night, this never would have happened.

"And shut down Baby's?" Jared huffs a laugh. "For what? I would have ended up like this sooner or later. Why not sooner?"

"No. You wouldn't. You don't have to do this," Jensen says. "Tell that guy to go fuck himself. Come work in my kitchen, I'll make sure you make enough to—."

Jared barks out a laugh. "You can't trust me in your kitchen."

That stuns Jensen into silence, and he shakes his head. He hadn't meant to make Jared feel that way. "You didn't take anything. You could have gotten away easy if you had, and you didn't. Anyone else would have. Of course I trust you."

"Well, I don't," Jared replies. He bites his lip, a habit he's always had, and Jensen's stomach drops when he hears how sad Jared sounds. "That I even considered it. After everything you'd given me—I know what kind of person I am."

Jensen shakes his head, but he's too crushed to even speak. He wants to grab Jared and shake him, try to make him see how wrong he is, but all he can do is stand there with his mouth hanging open.

Finally, Jared steps forward and touches his face. "Please don't look at me like that, Jensen. Like you're disappointed in me. I never meant for you to find out."

"Then why would you come to my diner?"

Jared smiles weakly. "Missed it so much. Missed…the food here tastes like home. I. Know how stupid that sounds, but. I thought I could do you a favor, bring in some business during slow hours and get to spend a little time here. I didn't think you'd work this shift. I didn't want you to know. I just needed…this."

He stops to think on it, doing some math in his head, and realizes things have been steadier during the late weekend hours over the last month or so. Not enough that he'd bothered to question why, but recognizable once it's been pointed out. He never would have known if not for the call-out yesterday. He might have never seen Jared again.

Jared reaches out to touch Jensen's hand, which gets his attention, but then he thinks better of it and lets go. "You don't have to worry about it, okay? We don't do business here. I know this isn't that kind of place. I would never bring you that reputation. I just have them come here for food, before or after. I make it worth their while, but never here, I swear."

"You think _that's_ what I'm worried about, Jared?" Jensen asks, searching Jared's face. "Is that who you think I am?"

"I know who you are," Jared replies. He cups one of Jensen's cheeks and smiles. "You don't have to worry about me anymore. I'm not that little boy. I can handle myself. Couldn't just keep running to you, ruining your life, every time I had a problem, could I?"

"Yes." Jensen takes Jared's hand off his face, holding it between his own. "Yes, you could have."

"Well, I won't." Jared looks toward the restaurant, where his asshole client is probably starting to get antsy, and seems to be considering something before he says, "I really need this, Jen. I know you don't want to hear it. I know you don't want to see it. But please, don't judge me for this. Don't hate me. I couldn't bear it and—I really need this place. Trying to stay away was the hardest thing I've ever done, and if I lose it again, I don't know what I'll do."

Jensen hates everything about this, but the way Jared's looking at him is physically painful. He knows if he pushes back any more than he already has, he might just push Jared away forever. The kid is so hard to hold on to. "Tell me you're safe, at least. Tell me you don't let them near you without protection."

"I am now," Jared promises, and when Jensen jumps up at the last word, he holds his hands out defensively. "There were a few mistakes, at the beginning. I didn't know how to handle them as well as I do now. It’s been a long time since—"

"Have you been tested?"

Jared shakes his head, and Jensen kicks the ground. "I want test results in your hands the next time you come here, are we clear?"

"Yes," Jared says, his voice shaky. "But I can come back? No matter what the tests say?"

"Yeah," Jensen answers, softening. "You're always welcome at Baby's."

_______________________________________________________________

Three nights later, he gets home as the sun is starting to appear on the horizon. Sadie is waiting for him outside, and she follows him with her tail wagging madly as he lets himself in.

Sadie had shown up just a few months after Jared dropped out of his life, clearly abandoned and looking for a sucker. She'd reminded him of Jared with her big, sad eyes, so thin her ribs showed on the sides, and that was really all it had taken. Jensen fell for it just as easily with the dog as he had with the lost little boy on the street.

He gave her the name Jared had once told him he would like for a dog if he could have his own, back when they were both just kids, when it was Jared's favorite thing to sit and dream up better lives for himself. It's hard to think that that little boy was the same person who handed him the envelope he's clutching too tight now.

Jared had been afraid of them. He shoved the results into Jensen's hands on his way to the usual table, not stopping to say anything except, "I couldn't look. Want it to come from you. Just tell me tomorrow."

Jensen couldn't really argue with that. He'd been the one to demand Jared get tested, so he's the one that gets stuck finding out what kind of news exactly it was he asked for. 

He turns on the living room lights and drops his bag on the floor, sitting on the couch with the envelope held out in front of him. His hands are shaking as he stares at it, and Sadie must sense how tense he is, because she jumps up next to him, butting her head against his arm supportively.

Finally, Jensen tears the flap open and makes himself look. It's like the entire galaxy stops rotating and starts going in another direction the way everything changes between one second and the next. Clean. Everything is negative, despite the odds. Jared is healthy.

Jensen doesn't even realize how worried he had truly been until he feels his eyes about to fill with relieved tears. He grabs Sadie and presses a kiss to her little brown head, and she yips cheerfully, always happy to celebrate, regardless of if she knows what the occasion is.

He tells Jared as he's on his way out the next night, the john already halfway to his car.

"You got lucky this time," he says, and the anxiousness in Jared's expression disappears. Jensen cuffs him on the back of the head as pulls at the door. "Don't you ever do that again."

Jared turns to smile and winks at him. "Only for you."

_______________________________________________________________

The next night, Jared comes in and orders a Caesar salad. Jensen stops, wondering if he heard that right, and can't hold himself back from asking, "Do my ears deceive me? Is that Jared deigning to eat vegetables?"

"I'm not happy about it," Jared clarifies.

His john laughs, and Jensen has to restrain himself from giving the guy stink-eye for injecting himself into the conversation. "Why are you ordering it, then?"

"I finished sandwiches yesterday," Jared says, pointing to the menu. "Salads are next."

"You go through the menu in order?" the guy asks, and Jensen feels silly for not noticing it sooner. "Why don't you just order what you want?"

"Can't choose, everything's so good," Jared answers dismissively. He looks up and smiles, and Jensen's chest expands knowing that smile is just for him. "Even the salads."

He knows that's not really why, but he holds his peace in front of the customer. "I'll never hear you say it again."

"Nope!" 

The john reaches out to get Jared's attention focused back on him. "Say, you seem to know the food here pretty well. What would you recommend?"

"Everything," Jared replies. "Try the sloppy joes. Or chicken tenders. Oh, I want a milkshake. Can I get a milkshake?"

_______________________________________________________________

It's a cobb salad the next time, southwest chicken the night after, and it's not until Jared's last salad night—when instead of a greeting, Jared just announces "Hot dogs tomorrow!" that Jensen can't keep his curiosity in check any longer.

He waits until the john Jared is with has gone off to the bathroom, and then he slides into the table across from Jared. "Tell me why."

"Why?" Jared parrots back. "Why what? The meaning of life or something? Because that's way above my paygrade."

"Don’t be a smartass," Jensen says, though, really, that's hopeless and he knows Jared's thinking the same thing from the way he beams at Jensen across the table. "Why do you go through the menu in order?"

"Just a thing I've been doing since I got back," says Jared. "I'm on my second cycle, did you know that?"

Jensen laughs. "I think you're the only person aside from me who's had everything we make here."

"That's a very distinguished club I'm in, then."

Jared is deflecting, and maybe Jensen should just let it go, but he can't. "Jared, tell me."

"Hey, I think Richard is coming back, so you should probably not be sitting there when he—"

"Yeah, okay," Jensen says. "I get it."

Almost three months pass, two more cycles through the menu, before Jared tells him why. He'd given up asking but never stopped wondering. Jensen is leaning against the side of the Impala, on one of his breaks, when suddenly there's someone else there with him.

Jared leans on the door right next to Jensen, in his space, but it's not like Jensen is going to complain. He looks up at the sky for a few seconds, smiles, and then says, "Nice night."

"Cool for September," Jensen agrees. He turns to Jared. "Shouldn't you be with your client?"

"He's on the phone." Jared laughs and leans in. "With his wife."

"Ah," Jensen says, because he doesn't know what else to say, and Jared doesn't push him. "Does he treat you okay?"

"This guy?" He shrugs. "Better than some, worse than others."

"You know it's not too late to take a jo—"

"It keeps me going," Jared says. "When things are really bad. When I start thinking it might be easier to just end this. I almost did once. That's what made me come back here. Now, when I want to walk in front of a car—" Jensen flinches, and Jared stops to give him a reassuring smile. "I know I won't, because I can't stop in the middle of the menu like that. Have to get to the end of the menu. I know it's stupid, but it's enough to get to the next day and the day after and sometimes that's—anyway. You wanted to know why I do it, so that's why."

Jensen blinks a few times, a little thrown off by the idea that his silly diner menu could possibly keep someone alive. Thankful for it, though.

"And now that you're here, that helps too. If I ever think about trying something, drugs or drinking or whatever. Lots of the people who work my block end up on something. Trying to forget." Jared looks over at him and smiles. "I just remind myself that I can't show up here like that. I can't let you see me like that again, not after everything you've already forgiven me for."

He steps a little closer and presses a chaste kiss to Jensen's cheek, then puts his lips to Jensen's ear and whispers, "I hope you don't think you aren't doing enough for me, because you save my life every day."

Jensen goes home, and instead of immediately falling into bed, he sits up for hours, working on a new menu. Getting them printed costs at least much as Jared and his johns have brought in, but it's worth every cent to Jensen. He waits until Jared finishes his fifth cycle before retiring the old menu and brings the new one out with way more enthusiasm than a simple menu update should merit.

Of course, Jared notices right away. "The menu changed," he says the next night instead of hello, and Jensen nods.

"What do you think?"

"It's shorter," Jared observes.

Jensen trimmed it down so that the whole thing could be gotten through in one month. He has his cover story all lined up on that front. "Cut a few of our less popular dishes. Cost savings, you know how it goes."

"Uh huh," Jared says. "Added a few things, too."

"Don't want any loyal customers to get bored with the smaller selection."

Jared drops his act then, lets all his happiness shine through. "Only four salads."

"But all healthier than the previous ones," Jensen tells him.

Instead of putting up the token protest, Jared sets the menu down and points to the box in the very bottom corner. "This is new."

Jensen had been a little nervous about that, but he can see the softness in Jared's eyes as his fingers rest over the new promotion. 

"Go through the whole menu and get a free meal," Jared says. "What an oddly specific offer."

"Is it?" Jensen asks, hardly hiding his smile. "Seemed like a good way to reward loyalty. Well, let me know if you find anyone I owe five meals to."

Over the next week, Jared comes to Baby's alone. He sits and orders exactly what he wants, and Jensen takes his break so they can eat together. It feels for a short time the way it had before—when things were easy and fun between them, and Jensen hadn't ruined anything with wanting. 

But on the fifth night, when he tries to convince Jared to come alone again tomorrow, Jared reminds him that he's all out of freebies, as if that escaped Jensen's notice.

Still, once a month, Jensen gets Jared all to himself, no johns at the table listening in on what should be his and Jared's, no stolen moments during bathroom breaks and phone calls. It gives them both something to look forward to.

_______________________________________________________________

On Jared's 17th birthday, Jensen bakes a chocolate cake. It's the first time he tries to use his mother's recipe since she passed, and the result, while passable to the untrained heart, is a disappointment to Jensen. It's not as good as hers, though he can't put his finger on what's wrong with it.

He dresses it up the way he always used to do for Jared—name written in fudge on the plate, a small mountain of whipped cream, and of course sprinkles. Kid loves his sprinkles.

When Jared finishes his meal, Jensen sets the plate down. "Happy birthday," he says, and then he turns to glare at Jared's client. "Don't share it."

The face the stranger makes is so confused that Jensen has to rush back to the kitchen in order to keep himself from laughing right in the guys' face. But he watches Jared enjoy his dessert through the order window, happy to observe that he doesn't pause in wolfing it down long enough for the guy to even think about trying to sneak so much as a forkful.

_______________________________________________________________

The dam breaks eventually. It was bound to happen, Jensen realizes that as soon as it begins, and, really, considering the circumstances, Jensen thinks he's been a pretty good sport about the person he's in love with—who he has always been in love with—constantly being in his diner with other men. He made it the better half of a year before breaking.

Jensen knows something is wrong as soon as he stops at Jared's table, gives him and the slimey motherfucker he's sitting with his usual greeting. Jared doesn't turn to smile up at him. He stays very still, his head bowed, and quietly orders the breakfast platter. If Jensen didn't know where Jared had stopped yesterday, he would have had to ask him to repeat the order.

"Nah," the john replies. "Get him the oatmeal. It's cheaper."

"He's getting the breakfast platter," Jensen insists. "What do you want?"

"I told you he ain't," the man replies. "Don't need all that food for one little rat anyway. Do you?"

"It's fine," Jared says, still holding his position. "I'll have the oatmeal."

Years old instincts claw up inside of Jensen, and he very suddenly knows exactly what's happening.

"Jared, look at me."

Jared shakes his head. "Please, just go away, Jensen."

"Look at me," he says again and finally Jared does. Lifts his head so Jensen can see his black eye, busted lip. Jensen gets a feeling of déjà-vu he never, ever wanted to experience again.

And suddenly, almost a decade of anger and helplessness rushes to the surface. He's seen Jared hurt like this so many times before. He's never had the object of his wrath sitting right in front of him.

"I'll kill him," he says, slapping his order pad and pencil down on the table.

"Jensen, please, it's not a big deal. I'm fine."

"I'm going to fucking kill him."

"What's that?" the douchebag asks, rising to his feet.

"You heard me," Jensen answers, stepping forward. "I'm gonna rip your fucking throat out."

The guy lifts his arm, and Jared jumps up, grabbing it. "Travis, please, don't. Don't hurt him. Don't hurt him."

He shoves Jared back into the booth. "Stay out of this. If your boyfriend here wants to make threats, then he can handle whatever happens."

"Me," Jared says, sitting up and trying to get between them again. "Jensen, stand back, okay. I'll talk to him." He looks to the john. "I'll give you your next time free. You can do anything you want to me. For the love of god, don't hurt him."

Jensen turns to look at Jared, shaking his head. "Jared. You let him do this to you?"

"It's okay," Jared insists again. "He's a regular. It's okay."

"It's not fucking okay," Jensen barks. "You let him do this _regularly_?"

"If you care so much, why don't you throw as much money at the worthless little fag as I have?" Travis gives Jensen a once-over and snorts. "Let me guess, you can’t afford it."

"That's enough," Jared says. "Let's just go."

"I came here to get my meal, I'm not leaving hungry."

"I'm not feeding you," Jensen says. "Get the fuck out of my restaurant. Right now. My staff are by the phone. You wanna talk to the cops tonight? You want them to look at that kid's black eye?"

The guy waits a few seconds, then turns. "Let's go, Jared. If you're so hungry you can get something after I'm done with you."

"He's not going anywhere," Jensen says. "Now leave before I lose it."

"Go on, throw a punch, son. Let's see how fast your sorry ass excuse for a restaurant gets shut down after you start picking fights with customers."

Jensen launches at him, but before he can do it, Osric is behind him, pulling him away. Jared stands up once he sees that the fight isn't immediately going to happen and puts himself between Jensen and Travis.

"You should go," he says.

"Yeah, I'm going," Travis tells him. "You won't be seeing business again for a long goddamn time after I let everyone know this is how you treat loyal clients."

"Good!" Jensen yells at the man's retreating back. "Tell everyone. I'll kill the next one of them who goes near him."

"Okay," Osric says, patting Jensen on the shoulder. "We've got other customers man, you need to calm down."

Jensen takes a deep breath and looks around, realizing that the few people who are in the diner at this hour are all staring at him slack-jawed.

He shakes Osric off and sees that at some point, Kim left the kitchen, and now she's standing in front of him with her arms crossed over her chest. "Go home and cool off."

Nodding, Jensen tries to leave, but then Jared steps forward.

"I didn't want to bring him here," he says, reaching for Jensen's sleeve, but Jensen evades the touch. "I tried to tell him—he insisted. I was scared. I'm sorry, Jensen, I'm so so—"

"You choose that over working for me?" Jensen asks him. "Letting people hurt you is better than working for me?"

Jared's face drops in response, and normally Jensen would do anything in his power to make him feel better. Right now, he can't see anything through how hurt he is. He turns away from Jared and stomps out the front entrance, opposite the one Travis had left through, though a part of him almost hopes the sonofabitch is still out there.

_______________________________________________________________

Jared finds him outside twenty minutes later, leaning against the back of the Impala and looking out at nothing in particular. He doesn't hesitate for a moment before climbing up, sitting on Baby's trunk like he's at home.

Jensen expects him to say something, but they're both quiet for several minutes until finally Jensen makes himself speak. "I need you to stop coming here, Jared."

He's expecting some kind of pushback on that, and when Jared's completely silent, he turns to look up and see Jared's face hovering above him. Jared isn't crying, hardly even looks upset, and Jensen can't even breathe without shaking, feels like he's tearing his heart out with his blunt nails.

"Did you hear me?" he asks. "I mean it this time. I know—I know why you do what you do. And I know why you feel like you have to. I wish you would just take honest work in my stupid diner, but I get why you won't. But this…I can't keep doing this, I'm sorry. You gotta stop coming here."

"I can't do that," Jared says, simple as anything. "I won't. I tried. For twenty months I tried. Couldn't do it."

Jensen shakes his head and looks down at his hands, rubbing his thumb over his callused palm. "I don't mean that you're not welcome here. Of course you are. But you can't come with them. Please, just don't bring them. Come alone. Whenever you want just, please, Jared."

"Not gonna be a drain on you. Not again." Jared's voice thins a little when he says, "Would hardly ever be able to come here without them paying."

"You _know_ I would never charge you," Jensen answers.

"I would never charge you," Jared echoes back softly, his fingers grazing Jensen's shoulder, and Jensen recoils from the touch, turning to face him.

"Let's not do this," Jensen says.

Jared watches him with a pleading expression that could end Jensen's world. "Let me make you feel good for once," he begs. "I feel like every time I see you, I just make you that much more miserable."

"I'm in love with you," he says.

Jared's mouth turns up at the edges, but there's no surprise there. He says, "I know," as if Jensen's just told him the most obvious thing in the world, and Jensen is humiliated. He tried to hide, but of course Jared knows all the signs. It makes him wonder how many losers like Jensen Jared has drooling over him, completely fucking lost and willing to give up everything for one little touch.

"You've always loved me," Jared says.

Jensen can feel his skin burning with shame all the way up to his ears. Jared hops down from the car and takes Jensen's wrist and Jensen tries to struggle away, but Jared holds fast until finally he stops, lets the kid have his way like he always has. He lifts his eyes just enough for them to meet Jared's, and Jared is watching him with an expression Jensen doesn't understand.

"You're the only one who ever did," Jared says in a whisper. "I can't for the life of me figure out why, but you're the only person in the world who's ever loved me."

"Then you should know how much this kills me." Jensen lets Jared keep his hands but he cuts his eyes away, knowing he'll choke on these words if he can see Jared as he says them. "Watching the way they treat you. Knowing what they've gotten and that they don't deserve you. They don't even appreciate it. They take you apart and spit you out and they don't even know how lucky they are. None of them. I would give you anything you asked for, but I can't keep watching them get you and know I'll never—"

"I'm right here," Jared says, his hand slipping behind Jensen's ear, making Jensen shiver. "You can have me, too."

All he wants is to melt into Jared's arms as he tries to wrap them around, but instead he puts his hand on Jared's chest to stop him. He looks up, directly into Jared's eyes and says, "I don't just want that. I can't just take that and move along the next morning like they do. I don't want you to fuck me to settle some debt you think you owe me. You don't owe me anything."

"Okay," Jared tells him. "First of all, yeah. I do. I owe you everything. I'll never be able to pay you back what I owe you. Not with the johns bringing you business, not on my knees, not in your bed. That's not why I'm offering."

"You don't understand what—"

"And second," Jared interrupts. "What I don't understand—what I have never been able to understand—is how someone as good as you could love someone as broken as me and imagine for even a moment that I don't love you back."

Jensen shakes his head. "You don't. You don't want me. It's okay that you don't, but please don't pretend. Please stop trying to offer me that as if it's payment."

Jared pulls him toward the car. He gets up onto the trunk again and pats the spot next to him. "Sit. Listen."

He does as he's told, and Jared takes his hand, pulling it between both of his own and looking down as he begins to trace lines with his fingers.

"I know why you think I'm just trying to give you what you want. All those other times I offered, you know, I did want you then. I said it all wrong because I was a dumb kid. I didn't know any other way to say it. No one had ever given me another way to think about it except for you, and you're right. I didn't understand, at the time, why it upset you so much."

Jared stops for a moment and takes a deep breath, and something wet falls onto Jensen's hand. It takes him a few seconds to catch up, to realize Jared is crying. "I thought there was something wrong with me. Some of them told me that. That it was me, that I was so bad I made them want the things they did to me, so it was my fault. I believed them. I was just a kid, and the only person I ever wanted was the only one who pushed me away. You were so good. I thought I was so bad you wouldn't come near me. I thought that was why you hated yourself for wanting me."

"Jared, that wasn't ever—"

Jared wipes at his cheeks and laughs as he lifts his head, just enough to look at Jensen. "Fuck, I know. I know that now. I'm not a child anymore, whatever you might tell yourself. It took me years to figure it out, but I realized one day. You pushed me away because that was what I needed you to do. Even though I wanted you, I needed someone who wouldn't take that from me, who tried to make me feel like I was worth something without it. That's why I love you. You always did what was right for me, even when it wasn't what you wanted, or even what I wanted."

"That still leaves us where we started," Jensen says. "I can't have you. I've accepted that. But you can't keep parading them through here. It's not fair to me, and I can't lose it like I did tonight. This is my business, Jared. I can't make another scene like that."

"Why can't you have me?" Jared asks. "I don't need you to push me away now. I need—god, Jensen. I don't expect you to put up with me forever. Just once. I want it to be good just once. Please."

"Just once," Jensen repeats. "That's why."

"I told you, years ago. I told you wrong, but I meant it. As long as you want me, I am yours."

Jensen looks up to read Jared's expression. He looks sincere, and everything he's saying is everything Jensen never let himself imagine Jared saying. "Promise that if we do this tonight, you won't be back on the street tomorrow. Promise me, Jared."

"Take me home," Jared says. "I promise. And I wanna go home."

He jumps down from the Impala, and Jared follows him across the parking lot. The drive is quick and quiet. Jensen is almost afraid to talk, convinced he'll say something wrong and watch this fragile hope tumble down like a city built of stacked jam packets and salt shakers.

When they get out of the car, Jared takes his hand and kisses him. It's deep and it's needy but it's the first time Jensen doesn't feel dirty with Jared's mouth against his. They walk in a tangle, tripping over tree branches and steps until they reach the front door.

Then Sadie snaps them out of it, her sharp barking making Jared pull back with surprise. "You have a dog?"

Jensen opens the door, and out pours brown fur and wagging tail, and she jumps up on Jared as she sniffs him, trying to assess if he's a threat or a six foot tall ham.

"Down, Sadie," Jensen says feeling the tips of his ears burn as Jared turns to look at him.

He smiles as he pats her sides and eventually her head, once Jensen has managed to drag her back down onto her feet and off of Jared. "You named your dog Sadie?"

"Shut up, Jared," Jensen replies, which only makes Jared's grin widen. 

He practically tackles that grin, kissing Jared again and shoving him back, in the direction of his bedroom. Jared half-laughs into the kiss as he pulls Jensen along, walking backward and bumping into every piece of rearranged furniture.

"Think maybe I should have been the one to go in blind," Jensen says. As soon as he breaks his mouth away to talk, Jared is sucking at his neck instead, like he can't bear not to taste Jensen for even a moment.

"Don't mind," Jared says as he bumps into another corner. "No time to think."

They reach Jensen's room (okay, they crash into the door) a few seconds later, and Jared lets Jensen turn him enough so that he's the one groping for the handle. He finds it on muscle memory and as soon as they're through, Jared is working at his belt, stripping off his jeans with expert speed that makes Jensen's head spin.

He pulls back to watch Jared's pants fall to the ground, no underwear underneath, and then Jared pulls his shirt over his head, struggling a bit with the too-tight fabric before finally he's free.

Jensen watches his muscles, the way his broad chest tapers down into thin hips. Jared's ribs show a bit on his sides, but he's still so beautiful it makes Jensen stop to realize everything that's wrong with himself. He's halfway through the buttons on his shirt, and Jared steps forward to help, making Jensen turn his face away as Jared finishes and slips it down his shoulders, exposing the undershirt that does nothing to hide his soft belly and pale skin, much less enticing than what Jared just revealed.

But Jared slips his fingers under the thin white fabric anyway, touching his stomach lightly, letting his fingers ghost up over his chest as he forces the shirt up. Once he has Jensen's chest bare, he reaches out, thumb brushing over one of Jensen's nipples, and Jensen takes a quick breath.

He'd forgotten how sensitive they were. Truth is, it's been a long time since Jensen got laid—before Jared started showing up again—and he hadn't seen a whole lot of action before then, too busy with the diner for more than an occasional fuck. Jared has a world of experience, and Jensen had never believed this would happen, so he never stopped to wonder if he would be a disappointment.

"Hey," Jared says, leaning in to kiss him. "What's wrong?"

Jensen shakes his head, trying to say nothing, but Jared doesn't give him a chance. He walks Jensen to the bed and lies him flat on his back. As soon as Jensen is settled, Jared climbs on top of him, kissing him and pulling Jensen's hands to his hips.

"You couldn't imagine how gorgeous you are right now," Jared says. "Don't try to hide from me, Jen."

Then he starts on Jensen's belt, but it's not the rushed, businesslike way he'd gotten his own off. Jared takes his time undoing the buckle, pressing kisses to Jensen's mouth until it's slipped out of the last loop, and then he breaks away.

He doesn't quite get off of Jensen, but he changes his angle, so he's hovering over Jensen but not sitting on him, and his mouth begins to work its way down, until he reaches Jensen's stomach and playfully nips at the skin. Jensen lets out a yelp and wiggles up off the bed, and Jared looks up at him with the same bright little smile he used to have when he brought Jensen an A on a test they'd studied for together.

And just like that, all of Jensen's muscles relax, his brain stops worrying about not being good enough. Everything becomes so easy, because this is Jared and it's just them. He looks back down at Jared with a mirroring smile and Jared pops the button on Jensen's pants, sliding the zipper down with agonizing pressure on his dick and then pulling it out, beginning to work Jensen's shaft to hardness.

"I'm here," Jared murmurs, like he's trying to convince himself as much as Jensen. "I've got you."

"Please don't, I'll—" Jensen gasps as Jared twists his wrist and he slaps his hand down on the sheets. "Jared, I don't want to come like that. I want—"

"What?" Jared asks, sitting up. Not quite releasing his grasp on Jensen's cock, but setting a pace that's both bliss and agony, not nearly enough to ever get him off, but feeling too good to get tired of. "Tell me how you want it. I'll do anything."

Jensen frowns, reaching out to trace the line of Jared's jaw. "This isn't like that. Don't make this like that."

"I don't know how else to…I've never," he blushes and looks away, "this is a first for me."

He raises an eyebrow. "What, topping?"

"No, I've topped," Jared answers. He moves back up the bed so his body is lined up with Jensen's. "I've done pretty much all the acts you can think of, but I've never enjoyed it. No one's ever asked me what I want." 

Jensen's not surprised by that exactly, but it still makes him take a pause. "Jared, are you sure you're ready for this? We don't have to tonight. Or ever. You can tell me to stop."

He laughs. "I don't know what I like, but I know I want you. I've waited so many years already. You can't imagine how many times I got through it by pretending it was you."

"Okay," Jensen says, reaching out to sooth his hand through Jared's hair. "Tell me what you don't want."

"I don't…" Jared licks his lips and looks down at the bed. "I don't think I ever want anyone inside of me again. Is that—is that okay?"

Jensen smiles and nods as he kisses Jared. "That's good. That's a start." He noses his way across Jared's jaw and presses his lips to the shell of Jared's ears. "Do you wanna fuck me? Wanna put that big dick in me? I've thought about that so many times."

Jared lets out a groan and Jensen takes that as a yes, so he rolls with it, easing Jared onto his back. He pushes his pants and underwear the last bit off and throws his leg over Jared, straddling him. "Want me to ride you?" he offers. "Fuck, I wanna watch you while I do all the work. Wanna see you lose it for me."

"Jensen," Jared gasps. "Yes, that. Please. Please."

He nods and reaches to the nightstand, just hardly managing to get it open, and pulling out a tube of lube and some condoms. 

Jensen pops the cap on the lube and spreads it between his fingers. "You wanna open me? Or do you just want to watch?"

Jared's eyes move from Jensen's hands to his hard cock, and he swallows. "Right now, I want to watch."

"Good, okay," Jensen says with a dirty grin. "I can put on a show for you," he says, lifting his hips and trying to get one finger in at the awkward angle. "I've done this so many times, Jared, wishing it was you inside me."

"Let me see," Jared urges, so Jensen turns around, spreading his cheeks and making sure his ass is on level with Jared's face.

He rearranges himself and then shoves in two fingers, even though he'd hardly gotten started with the first. Jared makes a sound that's so hot it's worth the slight burn, and then Jensen starts to work at himself, fingers crooking to find the right spot.

Jared doesn't join in, but he does get his hands on Jensen's ass, helping to widen his cheeks, thumb tracing over the rim of Jensen's hole as he works at himself. Under him, Jared is thrusting up into nothing, and his dick is huge and pink and perfect. Jensen watches it as if he's mesmerized, nearly crying out as he fucks himself and thinks about how in just a few minutes, all that cock is going to be inside him.

"Can I—you seen enough, Jared?"

He laughs. "Yeah. Yes. Please, Jensen. Want it. Think I'm gonna burst."

Jensen grabs a condom and gets off of Jared just long enough to roll it onto him. Then he's straddling Jared again, letting him hold himself steady as Jensen lowers onto his cock, inch by perfect inch.

For a few moments, he adjusts to the burn, watching Jared as he takes heavy breaths. Then he reaches down, cupping Jared's face with his hands. "You good?"

"Move," Jared demands, grabbing Jensen's hips with bruising force. "God, Jensen, move."

That makes him smile, reassures him that he's not making Jared do anything he doesn’t want. So he does as he's told, pulling up and moving back down again, slow at first. It takes a few tries before he finds the perfect angle, but as soon as he does, he throws his head back on a shout, speeding up in his desperation to feel it again.

Jared tries to help, thrusting up, but Jensen grounds him, pushes his hips into the mattress. "Just let me, Jared," he says. "I feel good. I wanna make you feel good. You don't have to do anything."

Under him, Jared turns his face into his pillow and makes a desperate sound, and Jensen moves again, real fast, fucking himself on Jared's dick with as much finesse as he can manage. Every nerve in his body jumps when Jared's cock hits his prostate, making them both groan in unison.

His thighs start to burn with the exertion, and Jensen bends enough to grab the headboard, trying to use it for leverage as he goes faster and harder. In the back of his head, he's pretty sure he's doing a sloppy job, not used to this much stimulation and not yet capable of pacing himself. But Jared seems as carried away as he is, his hands fisting in the sheets violently to keep himself from thrusting and a look on his face Jensen has been dreaming of for years.

"Can I touch you?" Jared asks.

"Anywhere," Jensen replies. "But if you—" Jared wraps his big hand around Jensen's shaft and Jensen has to find the rhythm again, because his brain cuts out for a few seconds. "Do _that_ , I'm gonna come so fast, Jared."

It doesn't deter Jared. In fact, he starts to jerk Jensen faster, a look of studied fascination on his face. There's no denying Jared's got talent, even if Jensen isn’t in love with how he got it. He manages to keep Jensen on the edge like no one ever has, and what feels like an impossibly long time passes before his balls start to draw up. There's no putting it off any longer.

"Gonna come," Jensen gasps. "I'm gonna—"

"Yeah," Jared says. "Give it to me, let me see."

He meets Jared's eyes below him, his body curved as he holds fast to the headboard, and then Jared sits up and sucks a nipple into his mouth, and Jensen curses him as he lets go, spilling into Jared's fist.

Jared laughs against his chest, making low, hungry sounds and Jensen keeps going, determined to get Jared there. He feels Jared spread his own come out on his back as he grabs Jensen's ass, and Jensen changes his angle, letting Jared hold him as he works his way down on his shaft.

It's not long before Jared bites his bottom lip, causing it to break again and Jensen moves down to lick the blood away. Jared closes his eyes tight, like he's trying to hide what's about to happen. Jensen won't have that. He lowers himself, slowing the pace by necessity, but it's worth it when he brushes a kiss along Jared's cheek, and Jared turns to look up at him.

"It’s okay," he says. "It's me. I've got you now."

The smile Jared gives him could break Jensen's heart. He nods, grasping Jensen by the back of his neck and looking down between them, to where their bodies are joined. Jensen starts to feel the pulse then, the warmth of Jared's seed filling the condom, and Jared keeps his eyes open, keeps them on Jensen, as a look of perfect peace washes over him.

They don't say much after. Jensen gets up and tosses the condom, wipes the jizz Jared managed to get everywhere. Then he falls into Jared's arms, quietly kisses every inch of skin he can reach, and they stay like that as they drift into sleep.

_______________________________________________________________

He's already finished making the bacon and toast when Jared finally stumbles his way into the kitchen the next morning. There are marks all over his cheeks from the pillow case, his hair is pointing in every direction, and he's wearing the faded, ratty old pair of boxers Jensen keeps forgetting to throw out.

Jensen knows he's a goner, because Jared only looks more perfect to him in all his drowsy imperfection, off guard and at ease and seemingly not worried about anything. That's all he ever wanted for Jared. Maybe he didn't think he could give it to him this way, but Jensen isn't about to argue.

"Sleep well?" he asks, waving the dog at his heels away. "Sadie, no. This is people food."

When he lifts his head, Jensen sees that Jared has dry tear tracks on his face, and even though he's smiling, it makes him deflate. "What's wrong?"

Jared shakes his head and licks his lips, looking up at Jensen with a slow smile. "Nothing is wrong." 

"Then why were you crying?" Jensen asks, feeling the crease between his brows deepen. He puts down the pan of eggs, switching off the fire. 

Taking a few steps forward, Jared holds out his hand to Jensen and slowly uncurls his fist. Jensen sees the plastic nametag he'd placed on Jared's nightstand when he'd woken up and left to walk the dog. He hadn't known if Jared would see it, but he couldn't resist. Jared's voice breaks when he asks, "You kept this?"

"Yeah," Jensen answers, brushing a hair away from Jared's eyes and kissing him gently. "Of course I kept it."

"Even after what I—" Jared smiles down at it and then up at Jensen.

Jensen nods his head at the table, where one plate is already set out. There's an apron folded on the seat, and Jared walks over, picks it up tenderly, as if it's something fine and precious instead of a scrappy piece of cloth made for getting dirty.

"It won't be glamourous," he explains. "I can't offer you some great new life. It'll be gross and sweaty and sometimes it's going to smell, and the customers can be real pieces of work. Jared, if I could, I'd give you so much more, but all I can offer is this. It's not the streets, though."

"This is all I've ever dreamed of," Jared says, hoisting the apron strap over his head and tying the back. "Can I try? I've never had a real job before. I don't know if I'll be any good. But. Can I try?"

"You start today," Jensen tells him, watching as Jared clips on the nametag, bright red letters standing out against the thick white fabric. "Now, tell me how you like your eggs. You're always changing your damn order on me."

**The End.**


End file.
